My War is Your War
by writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: America's economy is suffering, but the new President may be able to fix it. It certainly seems so at first, but as time goes on, the new President starts picking wars across the globe, causing tensions to strain among new enemies and old friends. Can America cope with enemies left and right? Or will his power crazed President run him into the ground? T (Being Rewritten) 3/18
1. Prolog

**Being rewritten, because YAY.**

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><p>England sat down in his comfy ottoman, setting his steaming tea down next to him gingerly. He quickly opened up his well-thumbed novel to the dog-eared page, quickly getting enraptured with the story. He reached for his tea blindly, eyes scanning the page, when someone pounded on the front door. England knocked his tea over, cursing.<p>

England jumped out of his chair, hissing in annoyance when he accidentally stepped in some boiling tea, and marched over to his front door. The doorbell began to ring, and continued until England slammed his fist against the oak.

"Who in the bloody hell—"

"England~!" America's cheery voice called through the wood. "Let me in! I've brought fun times…" He let out a laugh. "It's me, see? I'm fun." There was a pause, "Open the door!"

England rested his forehead against the door frame, fighting the amused grin that threatened to spread across his face. "Aren't your elections going on? Shouldn't you be, oh, I don't know, seeing who will run your country for the next four years?"

"I'm trying!" Came the peppy response. "You won't let me in."

England blinked. "America?"

"Mh-hm?"

"I don't bloody run your elections on the telly." England snorted, "Besides, the results will be slow anyways. Go hang out with those enlightening—"

"I brought booze!" America knocked something against the door. Not that England knew off the top of his head, but it sounded a bit like a full rum bottle.

England sighed again, slowly unlocking the door to peer out at America. "I got drunk with you last week."

America grinned and held up the alcohol enticingly. He stood there like a bloody git, all decked up in his bomber jacket uniform, with some American brand coffee cup in his hand, and an overnight bag in the other. But his pale complexion identified him as sick. Like Italy and Greece, America had an ever present cold or headache; hemorrhaging money, as it was.

"I promise the TV won't get thrown out the window… Like last time." America sashayed in past England, making a b-line for the same room England had been relaxing in earlier. "Hey, why's there tea everywhere?"

…

America pointed at the TV, eyeing the small election bars that where slowly moving their way across the screen. "Go! Go you little—"

England snorted and kicked America in the side, draining the last of his alcohol from his tea cup. "Shut up! Trying to listen to the… the…" England squinted at the screen. "The, wass'it called…" England knew he was sufficiently drunker than America. But, damn it! What was that little talker person called…

"Woo! My man!" America cheered, pointing at the screen. "That there, with the funny hair, is P.Q.!" America grinned.

England snorted and squinted again, looking at the windswept man. James P. Queman peered out of the TV with warm, chocolate eyes and a sincere smile. England thought he looked like he would be a good grandfather.

"James," America continued, nudging England, "can drink like there's no tomorrow." America swept his hand around the room. "Shot glasses everywhere. Couldn't beat him at my own game. Nice kids, though."

England chortled, which game out more like an oink. "How did you even find this… This…" He pointed at the TV, snapping his fingers. "Starts with a C-H… Channel!" England sat up, nodding triumphantly. "How'd you find this channel?"

America frowned at the TV, watching the results. "It was on the BBC, 'er something…" England noticed America often sounded like a Texan when he became tipsy, and less like a Northerner. When he was plastered, however, he started to sound like a Californian. "That, the woman, there, she's," America poked England again, "I haven't even met her yet."

England nodded. "She looks scary." He tried to focus on the blonde woman on the television, but was distracted by America again.

"Ohhh-!" America wiggled in his seat, causing England to laugh and fall over onto America. "Rosery has this in the bag! Look at her! She's smoking Queman! You can do this, P.Q! I believe in—Don't jump up that high!"

England struggled to sit up again. "Is it over yet? How indecisive could—"

America stood up, cheering. "Ohh! Alicia Rosery takes the popular vote at an astounding sixty-five percent! The first female president—This is almost as monumental as Ob—"

England pulled America back down onto the couch, cursing. "I've got people living upstairs! You'll wake them!"

America laughed. "England, you live alone."

England raised an eyebrow, muttering, "As far as you know…"

America let out a happy squeal. "I hope she changes everything, England, I really do. All that acid rain, pollution—"

It was at this point England, quite drunk and tired from the night's activities, collapsed next to America. It took another half-hour of rambling for America to realize England was sound asleep. Chuckling, he shut the TV off and collapsed onto England, sighing contentedly.

…

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

"Fuckkkkkk." America reached blindly for his phone, wondering who in the hell would call at such an early hour. England shifted under America as he lifted the phone to his ear, pressing 'answer.'

"Peter's Porno Pala—"

"_This is the personification of the United States, correct?_"

America furrowed his eyebrows, lifting the phone away from his face to look at the caller ID. "So, you're the new boss lady?"

There was a confused pause at the other end of the line. "_I… This is Alicia Rosery, yes. I expected you here to be debriefed. I was informed that you're at… England's… house?_" She sounded exasperated almost. Annoyed, if America didn't know any better.

"Yeah. I was gonna' come back but…"

"_I don't have time—nor do your people—for you to be lazing about with your friends. I expect you to be on the first flight back to _your _home._" And then the line went blank.

Alfred scowled at his phone. "Nice to meet you, too." He threw his phone across the room. America smirked when he heard a window break.

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><p><strong>:D ?<strong>


	2. Chapter One

America rubbed his eyes, peeking up through his fingers to look at the guards positioned around the door in front of him. Jet lag dragged at his eyes, and there was nothing more America wished to do but curl up and go to bed. Even his coffee this morning on the plane hadn't helped. To make matters worse, America's cowlick drooped. Freaking New York Stock Exchange…

Trying to distract himself, America looked around the building where he was currently seated. America assumed this was where Alicia Rosery's electoral campaign had been run from; though, Rosery hadn't mentioned the building's function to America on the brief phone call on the flight home. America had been lucky enough to find this place in the diagonal, crisscrossing streets of Washington DC.

America pouted, looking around for something to eat or someone to talk to. The whole office revolved around the door in front of him, with people busily bustling in and out with papers or files. Always with those two guards, staring everybody down.

It was when America's stomach rumbled pitifully that he had enough. He stood up and turned on his heels, heading out toward the front doors. America noticed that even though it was well past noon, nobody else was heading out to lunch, or even eating at their desks.

America rubbed his hands together as he left, grinning as he formed a plan.

…

"The Hero has brought bagels!"

The entire building quieted and stared at America. He stood in the front door, arms piled high with bags of bagels. He looked around the room and grinned. "I wasn't sure what to get, so I mainly got plain. I also got cream cheese."

America sauntered over to a free table and placed down his load. Several people followed him, grinning to one another as they grabbed for food. America laughed, grabbing his forth bagel.

Suddenly, the door to Alicia's office opened. Everybody froze;America remembered when he was once caught by England in the middle of the night, stealing cookies from the pantry when he was younger.

Alicia didn't look like she was over the age of thirty-five. She was small, like a child, with large, blue eyes that were as sharp as diamonds. Her blonde hair was tied in a neat bun, and she was dressed like a business woman. She marched over to America, glaring at him.

"You were told to wait. You went and got food. You were told to be here to greet the winner of the Presidential race. You went to England. I'm sensing a troubling trend." She turned around toward her office, snapping her fingers in an indication for America to follow.

America glowered, reluctantly following. A few of the office people sent him sympathetic looks, feeling sorry for the boy they didn't know, but who had gotten them bagels. In office lingo, they were indebted to him.

America sat down in front of Alicia's desk, watching as she collected some files and manila folders, before sitting down across from him. She regarded America for a moment, his frumpy clothes and messy hair, cocking her head to the side like a bird of prey.

America shifted, feeling uncomfortable. Finally, he had to break the silence, "How's Queman handling the loss?"

"I could care less." Alicia narrowed her eyes. "You're very fat, did you know that? I know we're the fattest country in the world, but…" She wrinkled her nose.

America felt his face heat up, and he straightened in his seat. "This is muscle. I'm very fit, for your information, and I'm pretty sure Russia's pretty husky too." _Way to make a first impression, lady,_ America thought angrily.

Alicia snorted, "So what exactly do you… _do_?"

America crossed his arms. "I advise you. I tell you how my people are feeling. I converse with the other nations, see what they're up to."

The future President nodded once, taking this in. "Your file says as much."

"I have a file?"

Alicia tapped her nails on the table for a moment, before continuing. "I have several issues with you. The nation." She frowned, "Whatever the combination may be of those two. God knows we should have founds a renewable energy source by now, but for this term I will focus on four," She held up four fingers, smirking, "main issues. Number one, our lack of export, and our gluttonous amount of import. Two, our economy, which I hope will be fixed with export. Three, our _disgusting_ food." America thought back to the bagels. Baked heaven. "And finally, education and police force."

America stood up, snarling, "Listen lady, just because I'm not at the top of my game right now doesn't mean—"

"I don't know how you expect to get better when all you keep doing is the exact same thing! You aren't radical enough! You expect the old ways to keep working, when they don't apply. You could be an _Empire_." Alicia stood up as well, somehow staring down America, despite being a full foot shorter.

"Don't test me, America. You do your job, I'll do mine. As soon as I get sworn in, I'm making major changes to this nation." She sat down, looking at the seething America above her.

America clenched his fists. Jesus, Alicia was… All the other Presidents had been… So different, less stuck up… He was nearly two hundred and fifty years old! She was talking down…

America raged for a moment before sitting down, glaring at Alicia. "So what the fuck do you want to do? Just fix stuff?" Underneath his anger, America felt a small stirring of fear. Alicia was a dangerous one; someone who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. Germany jumped to mind, and before him England…

Alicia reached into the pile of papers neatly stacked before her and pulled out a manila folder, gently sliding in across the desk. "Read this. I'm not sure how literate you are, but it's as simple as I could put it."

America picked up the folder testily. "Oh, what's this? A detailed report on my weight?"

"Just read it," Alicia snapped. "You're dismissed."

America stood and stalked toward the door. She sounded like a _teacher_! Dismissing him, _America_! She was the biggest… The biggest…

"You're a bitch." America called over his shoulder as he opened the door.

He stalked out of the office, not making eye contact with anyone. As America left the building, Alicia stood up to shut the door America had left ajar. She looked over at the table where America had been, frowning. Not a single bagel was left.

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><p><strong>Piece of advice: Don't write FanFiction instead of doing History projects.<strong>

**Thanks to the sexy **Lucy's Wonderland Madness **for your review. :D And to all those new followers. **


	3. Chapter Two

England frowned at his stack of books, hands on his hips. For the past three months, England had read through an incredible, mildly absurd, amount of books. He knew why of course, but it still didn't explain why he had to resort to _Twilight_ as reading material. England had even gone through most of his required National paperwork, in lieu of something to do.

England collapsed into his ottoman, ignoring the couch, and frowned down at his phone beside him. He checked for texts, a call, e-mail—anything from that bloody wanker across the pond. America had barely been talked to England in the past months, ever since his new president got elected. To say England was grouchy was an understatement. To say he was lonely…

His phone suddenly buzzed. England jumped, flipping open his phone hotly. "About bloody time you called! Where the hell have you been?"

"Oh! I'm sorry but… I…" The person on the other end fell into whispers, causing England to furrow his eyebrows and strain his ears.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to… offend. Er…" England glanced at the caller ID, hoping as to get a hint as to who he was talking to. He prayed it wasn't one of his bosses' assistants, as they had a nasty habit of being soft spoken as well.

"I was just wondering… *Whisper* … America hadn't… *Whisper* … or syrup. And since I figured… *Whisper* … seen him?" The person on the other end certainly wasn't getting any louder.

England rested the phone in the crook of his neck, hurrying to his bookshelf. "Ah, just a moment." There was that one chap that lived above America, who ate pancakes. England _knew _his voice… Blast! He had been England's colony, for goodness sakes! He rifled around, until, finally, he found a map. Flipping to the 'North America' section, England grinned and announced, "Canada!"

"Yes?"

England blinked, suddenly feeling foolish. "Uh… I haven't seen America around. I think it may have something to do with that new president of his. You know…" England didn't know. "Preparation for the…"

"Swearing in?" Canadia prompted.

"Righto."

England could feel the awkward hanging in the air, but he wasn't sure what he should do to counteract it. He had no idea what Canidia had been up to. Wasn't the maple tree going extinct?

"It's just that… *Whisper* … ever stopped him before." Candadada muttered on the other line, causing static to flare up in England's ear toward the middle of his sentence. He grimaced, flailing for a topic to fill the silence. _What _stopped him before?

There was a familiar knock at the door, and England shot a quick prayer to whichever merciful deity granted him that miracle. "Really sorry, but someone's at the door. I'll definitely keep an eye out for America, the git. Bye Ca… Have a good day!" England flipped the phone shut, sighing.

Another frantic knock at the door brought England to his atrium, cautiously opening the door. There, grinning like a guilty puppy, stood America. He held a thin briefcase in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

England threw open the door, feeling months' worth of stress suddenly lift from his shoulders. "There you are! I thought you'd been raped my France and thrown in a ditch! You look like hell." He could feel himself mothering, but he couldn't help himself.

America laughed, awkwardly holding his water bottle in the crook of his other arm to scratch the back of his head. "Yeah… It's just that, well, with the swearing in…" He smiled, but it looked strained.

England regarded America for a moment, taking in the nation's appearance. He looked worse than the last time England had seen him; his hair looked limp, and his face was pale. England had been following America's happenings through the papers, but he sure as hell hadn't seen anything this drastic in the news to leave him looking this way.

America shifted uncomfortably, and England quickly stepped aside to let the taller man in. "Honestly, you'd think you couldn't take care of yourself over there." He shooed America toward the kitchen table before he began to make up a pot of coffee. "America, do you want it black or…?"

America collapsed into a chair, throwing his briefcase down next to him and taking a swig of water. "Naw. Just… Just…" He sighed, obviously frustrated. "Milk." England stared. America looked back at him contentedly, taking a few seconds to catch on. "Oh!" He laughed. "There's a debate going on whether or not I should outlaw coffee. Don't want to stir the issue with cravings…"

England slowly turned away, gathering a cup and milk from the fridge. "You know," He said slowly, pouring the milk, "Somebody called me today looking for you. What was his name…" _Damn it!_ England internally raged. "Ca… Ca… Cabindia?"

America frowned slightly, his face lighting up when he realized. "_Canada_?" He laughed, and for a moment he sounded like his old self again. He wiped his eyes, giving England a look that he very much resented. "Yeah. I've been busy." His mirth faded. "Y'all must have been worried for me, huh? The Great Hero?"

England sat next to America, handing him the cup of milk. "Alfred?"

"Mm?" America said from between sips of milk.

England paused, not really sure how to go on. He had never been good at… touchy feely talk. "If there's anything… You know, _troubling_ you…" America looked at him expectantly, and England soldiered on, "You can always talk to me." He hunched his shoulders, looking down into his cup of milk.

England heard America fidget, and for a moment England thought that he wasn't going to respond, but finally,

"She's a _bitch_, Arthur…" He leaned back in his chair, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "She… God, she gave me this folder, and it steamrolls right over how everything—how _I'm_—functioning! She…" America glanced at England then shook his head. "But, well, I guess I'm in a slump, and she needs to be tough… But…" England knew he was struggling to seem strong.

England furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what to say. Finally, fearing he might make a worse mess of things with his words, reached forward and took one of America's hands, giving it a gentle squeeze.

America smiled, squeezing his hand back. There was a moment of peaceful silence, and the two sat together peacefully. However, America was exhausted, and it was only a matter of time before he asked, "Is it all right if I crash here tonight?"

England snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course it is, you bloody idiot. Just promise me you won't drop off the face of the Earth the next time things get tough back home, alright?"

America laughed, standing up. "Only if you let me sleep in your bed this time."

England crossed his arms, dropping America's hand. "Only if _you _stop breaking my windows."

America picked up his briefcase, leaving his dirty cup and empty water bottle on the table. "Deal." He chuckled, kissing the top of England's head before trudging upstairs.

England sat for a moment, staring at his half-empty cup. _Oh, America…_ He thought, pulling out his phone and flipping it open, opening his contacts. He slowly scrolled through them, for lack of anything better to do. The cursor stopped when it highlighted 'Frog' and England debated whether or not to call the flamboyant nation. Finally, he decided to text him.

_Frog. (10:12)To: Frog_

England was expecting France to be busy either getting his 'beauty sleep' or fornicating with someone, so the text back was surprising.

_Hohohon sourcils has texted me, seeking affections! ;D (10:15) From: Frog_

England immediately felt like throwing his phone out. It felt dirty from association. England sighed, texting back quickly before heading upstairs after America.

_There's something wrong with America. And his president. (10:17) To: Frog_

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><p><strong>Owns nothing but the plot.<strong>

**Bla. Sorry for the long wait in between. I'm changing around relationships, obvi, and Germany and Italy get their own chapter.**

**... **

**That makes no sense unless you've read the original. XD **

**A huge thanks to those who read through the original first version with the updates and thought it was good. ;3 I plan to make it even better! **

**A love and kiss to those who reviewed, and followed. I love you! XD**

**Reviewers get cake. **


	4. Obviously

America couldn't sleep. He just couldn't. He'd been trying for the past two days, but he only succeeded in gaining maybe five hours rest total. To say Alfred was exhausted was putting it bluntly.

It wasn't like America couldn't fall into a light slumber and even into a deeper sleep, but then he started having the nightmares. They shook him to the bone, each and everyone one of them.

America looked blearily at the clock, murmuring something about coffee before sitting up in his bed and turning on his beside lamp. It was close to four and America was restless. He fidgeted and rubbed the back of his head before standing up out of bed and deciding to take a shower.

America set his mind on auto-pilot and turned most of his thinking power to the problem at hand. In short, the vanilla folder had been absolute hell. When Alfred had first begun reading, he had scoffed at most of the things on the sheets of paper. Then the more America read, the more that surefire attitude had been replaced with a cold unnerving terror. The first third of the vanilla folder had stated the problems in small chapters, and then elaborated on them. America had regretfully agreed with most of them.

Then America got to the second third of the folder, and that's what scared him. It detailed how the country would fall apart unless something was done _right now_. The terrible thing was, the more America thought about what the folder had said after he had read it, the more he suspected it could be right. He wasn't sure when he stopped reading- he had definitely stopped before the last third- but when he did, America ran straight to England's house.

America stepped into the shower and tried to let the hot water wake him up. He turned it up so high it made his skin red and tender. He eventually shut off the water and stepped out into the cold air of the bathroom and got dressed.

The night after he had read that bloody folder, Alfred began to have dreams. Sickness from the meat factories, people, _his_ people dying from thirst- or homeless and any number of horrible things; and now here he was. Making himself a cup of coffee at four in the morning.

Once America was done making coffee, he sat down in Iggy's reading chair Indian style and turned on the T.V., for background noise if anything. He watched an infomercial ('Do you lose your pencils? Try the new and improved, _pencil case_!') and sipped gingerly on his coffee.

America knew that if he could just man up and read the rest of the folder, all those damned nightmares would stop. But that was the problem; he couldn't. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat and most of all he couldn't finish the damn folder. The only thing he could do was drink coffee! And that wasn't very heroic at all…

A small bang and a faint curse of 'Bloody 'ell!' Brought America from his thinking session. He popped his head over the back of the chair and grinned at England, who had just woken up and banged his head on a kitchen cabinet door America had left open. "Mornin' Iggy! Howd'ya sleep?"

England responded with, "Nheg." Before beginning to make some tea for himself. America watched England fondly before sinking back into the squishy chair. America straightened slightly when England sat in the chair across from America.

England drank half his tea cup before looking at America and furrowing his eyebrows. "How did _you_ sleep? You look even more exhausted then yesterday…"

America's thoughts flashed back to the vanilla folder. He looked down at his coffee cup. "I think I dosed for an hour or two…"

England let out a huff, getting into 'Mother mode,' as America like to call it. "America, you'll drop dead if you don't get a full eight hours sleep! You bloody well know that, even with all your coffee, you'll faint in the supermarket one day! That is if you ever eat again! When was the last time you ate a _full_ meal, Alfred?"

America smiled when England used his name. The island nation hardly ever used it, except when he was really worried. America felt slightly guilty for showing up and worrying him…

"I'm sorry, Iggy- I just… Haven't been feeling well." America decided after a moment of thought to what excuse he was going to use.

Instantly, England stood and went to get a thermometer. "Has your economy taken a bad hit?" England called from wherever he was retrieving a thermometer.

America faced palmed. "Iggy! I'm not going to drop dead in the next-" A thermometer was promptly shoved in America's mouth. America spat it out moodily and crossed his arms.

England crossed his arms as well and glared down at America. "Put that bloody thermometer in your mouth or I will _shove it in there_."

America's eyes widened. England had morphed into… Super Mothering Mode. That meant that England would fight tooth and nail until America either confessed he was lying about feeling sick, or complied with England's demands. And England had some _really_ weird home remedies.

America gulped and made his choice. "Never."

England swooped down and picked up the thermometer and towered over America menacingly. America, having his frontal path blocked, began to try and tip the chair backwards so he could run away that way. England let out a curse and jumped on America, trying to wrestle the thermometer into America's mouth.

"Never!" America hooted again.

**… France …**

To say France had been surprised when England had called him would be an understatement. The island nation never called France anymore, especially after he and America had 'gotten closer.' France thought that the problems had ended there.

France figured that there would be no more awkward calls from England, asking France to assist him in picking out an outfit for his evenings out with America. No more calls asking when would be the right time for England to have his first kiss with America. France had been almost relieved. You were either born with the ability to date, or you weren't. It wasn't an art to be taught.

But England had called, yet again. France, being the master of _l'amour_, felt it was his duty to help anyways. Apparently, America was acting quite out of character and England, being the nervous _simplet _he was, thought it had something to do with him. France had told England he would think of what to do.

By thinking, of course, France meant showing up unexpectedly and forcing the two to go out on a date.

France, standing outside England's front door, wasn't so sure England needed his help. He was pretty sure it was America who needed help…

"England!" Came America's frantic shout through the door, "Get off of me! Please! I- I love you! But you're hurting me! Get off! I promise I will!"

"No! You won't! I'll get off and then you'll go running away hiding! You open up right now and put it in or I'll kick you out!" England shouted back.

America squealed, "Never Artie!"

France furrowed his eyebrows and took out his 'emergency' key and unlocked the front door. He cautiously crept toward the living room, where the grunts and squeals were coming from. France peered into the room, expecting the worst…

England had pinned America down, and was trying to jam a thermometer into his mouth. France let out a long, relieved sigh. _Dieu_ _merci_!

"Well, what 'ave we here? Two love birds disagree-eing over what to put in one another's mouth, honhonhon!" France giggled at his own joke.

England stiffened then quickly jumped off of America, face beat red. "Frog! What are you doing here?"

France grinned broadly. "Why, I 'ave come to help arrange a date! All in the name of your _l'amour_!"

**… Location unknown …**

Chez stood on the street corner, looking around expectantly. He liked the crowds walking down the streets; they were like a school of fish. Each one just trying to get somewhere and obviously, Chez was no different. He might have been waiting for someone, though it was hard to tell. He could have just as well been waiting for the bus.

Sadly, that was not the case. Chez was waiting for someone. Chez had been away from 'The Order' too long, and he was anxious to known how their plans were coming along. He was waiting for that one person in the crowd who would let him know how everything was.

Chez liked the crowds talking as they walked down the street. Some talked to each other, while most talked on phones or even to themselves. Each one probably just talking to hear one another talk and obviously, when a man stopped next to Chez, he was no different than the crowd. The only thing that set him apart from the crowd was 'The Crest.'

The crest was made by Chez. It was a white shield with a blue stripe going down the middle and a brown stripe going across. At the section where they met, it was a fiery red square. Behind the shield was a rabbit, made too look like its' eyes were smudged out. It hid partially behind the shield, it's long, fox like tail poking out from the other side of the shield. But, it could have just as easily been a cool badge from college the man wore.

Chez breathed out a steam of hot breath then looked at the man, obviously wanting to talk about something not important. "How goes it?" He asked mildly, smiling. (Is the mission going well?)

The other man shrugged and smiled, happy to have someone to talk to. "It's okay. I heard it was going to rain, though. Might need an umbrella…?" (Things are proceeding, but I think that someone caught on to us. We might need to take care of him…?)

Chez nodded solemnly, looking up at the sky in worry. "Of course. Wouldn't want to get wet, and our wives to get angry at our ruined suits! Might want to take a taxi… If they're ready when you are." (Whatever you need to do. I don't want Alicia to get angry. Capture him, if necessary. We can't be known yet.)

The other man nodded once, "I have to go. Nice talking to you." And he disappeared into the crowd, just another harmless man like the others.

Chez smiled faintly. Yes, obviously there wasn't anything else these men could be talking about. They couldn't be more than perfect strangers.

Obviously.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I won nothing! Not even the pencil case!<strong>

**Ha, I've been uploading wrong. *Awkward smile* Or really fast... **

**Anyways, we have America being depressed, then happy~ :D**

**And Chez! *Glomp* **

**Not much to say, really. I'd problably give something away... *Le sigh***

**But, I have the main story line all ploted out. And... this is going to be longggg. ':D **

**I might even have a second story after this... But only if I can finish this mosnter. XD**

**Anyways, hopefully I uploaded right this time!**

**Thanks to the stalks, everybody! *Grin grin***

**And thanks to my reviewers~ **

Moelolo **and** Captain Lye **! **

**Really... I hope I just uploaded wrong... and this isn't being ignored. XDD**

**Cake this time for reviewers!**


	5. Coffee and Important Calls

Alicia was getting angsty. She was in her office, reading through some book she had already read twice, but not taking in any of the words. She glanced at the phone on her desk. It sat there, beckoning for her to call America's cell phone. Alicia stared at it for a moment then shut her book with a small snap and stood up.

Alicia walked out of her office and down the hallway. She gazed around her at the White house, looking at the architecture of the building. She and Chez had moved into the White House early, on account that they had moved all the way from Ohio and rented a place in D.C. Alicia thought that she deserved to move in early.

She stopped outside Chez's door and knocked on it, hearing a muttered curse and something 'thunk' against the ground before a flustered Chez opened the door. The first think Alicia noticed was that Chez was shirtless. The second thing she noticed was that it was _freezing _inside Chez's rooms.

Alicia pushed by Chez and into his rooms, then sitting down on his bed. Chez shut the door quickly before smiling at Alicia. "He hasn't called yet, has he?"

Alicia grunted.

Chez nodded. "He will soon. Not everyone reads as fast as you, you know. He's also probably in shock."

Alicia cocked her head, frowning slightly.

Chez nodded gravely. "When you told him what you wanted to fix, his face morphed into this really funny expression. Like you slapped him. He's probably just trying to cope with it."

Alicia nodded thoughtfully. It was true, but that didn't mean the stupid personification couldn't call. Alicia leaned back against Chez's bed pillows and fidgeted with her hands. They'd have to start with the plan soon. Win the public, expand control. That was objective. And unless America discussed things with her and _helped_, she couldn't start anything. After all that time waiting for this moment, Alicia had to wait for one phone call.

Alicia rubbed her arms, glanced around Chez's rooms again. She didn't see a thermostat anywhere. How did he get it so cold? "… You might want to take medication for this."

Chez ran his hand through his hair then began to dig through one of the drawers in his dresser. "I just like it cold, Lish. Doesn't mean I need meds…" He found a sweatshirt and offered it to Alicia. She took it and put it on.

"But Italy-" She started.

"And Russia." Chez sighed and sat down next to her, grabbing his sketch pad and beginning to draw. "I know, it's stupid, but…"

Alicia nodded once. Chez had thermophobia, or the fear of heat and he suffered under the irrational fear every day. He hyperventilated whenever it got hot enough to not need a sweatshirt to keep warm. Originally, Chez had tried taking pills for his anxiety, but they made him sluggish and sleepy, and Alicia couldn't have that.

Alicia watched Chez draw absently. She tilted her head in amusement when she saw her profile coming into view on the paper. Chez didn't seem to notice, but he quickly shifted Alicia's thoughts off of his picture and back to the problem.

"He'll call eventually. He's probably busy reading right now…"

… Diner …

America, England and France were all at a breakfast joint. Apparently, this had been France's great date idea. Breakfast and laughing at England.

"For the last time, you lot of gits, it's pronounced '_advert-is-e-ment_!' Stop butchering the Queen's English!" England snapped moodily across the table.

America was beside himself laughing, clutching his stomach. France was doing the same, arm slung casually around Alfred's shoulders. England was sure it was to just annoy _him_.

"No, dude, you've got it wrong!" America finally wheezed, " '_Adver-tise-ment_!' You're pronouncing it way too literally!" America shot him a toothy grin and England couldn't help feeling happy for Alfred. He was acting more like himself than he had in days. He was even eating his breakfast.

France hugged America closer, shooting England a smirk. "Oui, I 'ave to agree with America. You sound like you drunk and trying to over pronounce for the cop 'oo pulled you over." This sent America into another fit of giggles.

England felt his cheeks heat up and he sank down into the booth behind him. "You're all murders of English." He huffed, looking away, embarrassed.

America noticed his cup of coffee was nearing empty and he called the waitress over, smiling innocently. "May I have a refill, please?"

The waitress- Gaby, as her nametag read- put one hand on her hip. "Oo' you bloody 'ell think you are? Why, you must'a 'ad five refills."

France gave England a withering look, "Oui, _America_ butchers the Queen's English." He turned to Gaby and put on a sleazy looking smile, in England's opinion. "Why, miss, you are much too _magnifique _to be working 'ere, non? Surely, you should be in modeling! As a matter-"

Gaby let out a warm laugh, "Alright, alright, I'll give 'im the bloody refill." She poured America another cup of coffee before walking off to the next table.

France smirked and pushed by America and followed the waitress, intent on finishing the conversation he had started with her. England seized his chance and made America squish over on the booth to allow England to sit next to him.

England nodded over to America, "You seem to be feeling better."

America smiled softly at England. "Of course, Artie. You didn't have to be worried; I'm a hero!" America laughed and took a sip of his coffee.

England instantly went on the defensive, "I wasn't worried! I was merely looking out for a former colony!" England felt his cheeks heat up again when America gave him a doubtful look, "And if your new president really cut you off of coffee, you shouldn't be breathing in the stuff here! You're going completely crash when you go back…"

England suddenly felt America's hand in his, squeezing slightly. "Don't talk about that." Alfred said softly, avoiding England's eyes. England winced. There he went, making America all gloomy again.

England had to get to the bottom of what America's new president had done the super power. England felt like he had to help. He had to make America happy again.

England inhaled, "Alfred, I-" A sudden annoying jingling came from England's pocket, causing him to jump and fumble answering his ringing phone. "Bloody-" He flipped open his phone, frowning. It was his boss.

After a few minutes of conversing, England hung up his phone and avoided America's eyes. He had a meeting today and England had completely forgotten. He cursed his luck- or rather his forgetfulness and squeezed America's hand.

"I have a meeting." England said dully, "But it isn't very long and if-"

America looked up sharply. "Iggy, don't let me interfere with your work. Go ahead, I'll be fine. I'll catch a ride back on a bus, and France can take a ride with Gaby, I'm sure." He gave Arthur an uneasy smile.

England felt guilt eat at his stomach. Of course he had a meeting today of all days. Just when he was possibly going to learn what had been worrying America so much he had to dash off… But England had no other choice. He was already late.

England sighed. "All right…" When he saw America's face, England knew he should have fought with his boss to stay with him.

… England's House …

America let himself into England's house, shivering slightly. When England wasn't home, and there wasn't a light on in the entire house, it almost looked… Haunted…

America gulped and shut the door as quietly as he possibly could. He listened hard, trying to hear if any ghosts were coming near. He shifted, counted to three, and then ran as fast as he possibly could up the stairs and into his room. Alfred slammed the door shut and ran over to the bedside lamp and turned it on.

America basked in the artificial glow for a moment then turned to the vanilla folder. He had to do this. He had to be The Hero, for his people. He was being selfish, not reading what was in the folder. He just had to read it and get it over with, so England would go back to his grumpy self and stop worrying himself sick. He walked over and picked up the folder.

… Alicia's Office …

The phone rang some two hours later. Alicia stared at it, hoping that maybe… It could be America. She picked up the receiver. Thirty seventy chance.

"America." She said sharply.

There was a cough on the other end, and the rustling of paper. Go thirty percent. "A-Alicia… About these plans…" America's hesitant voice said slowly.

Alicia smiled a cold, hard smile. He had called.

… Italy …

Italy walked down the sunny street, humming quietly to himself. He held a basket filled with a number of delicious food items- mainly pasta. He had walked for a mile or two and his legs were starting to protest, but Italy totally ignored his legs when a small house on an open vineyard appeared on the horizon.

Italy began to run towards the house, grinning and trying not to trip over anything. He skidded to a stop outside a small, faded white picket fence and opened it. A little boy, no more than five, jumped up from his train set and waved.

"Mama!" The boy chirped, "Feliciano is here!"

Italy had met the Rimoldi family a few months ago at the super market. Mario, the big man of the household, had dropped his wallet while leaving the store. Italy had been lucky enough to spot the lost wallet and picked it up and chance after the man. He followed the man for about an hour until Italy finally caught up to him and returned the wallet, wanting nothing in return.

Of course, when Mario had offered Italy and home cooked pasta supper, Italy couldn't say no. And now Italy was extremely close with the family, close enough that when Alessia, Mario's wife, had told him she was pregnant with a second child, Italy had squealed, jumped around and gave Mario a big hug. He had even planned the baby shower.

Italy had made a feast to celebrate Alessia's entering into the final trimester. But all through the meal, Italy felt a strong pang of longing in his chest every time he looked at Alessia's round belly.

Italy and Alessia were just finishing cleaning up the dishes when the pregnant woman looked at Italy thoughtfully.

"You know, Feli… I've never heard. Are you dating anyone right now?" The woman asked shyly.

Italy's thought immediately jumped to Germany. But… Germany never visited any more. He was also so busy, and Italy didn't know how to approach him anymore. He could try the note thing again… That had worked in the past. But there wasn't a Japan to make sure Germany got the letter. Plus, Germany would probably throw it out, anyways.

Italy fell silent for a moment then shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know, 'Sia. I mean, we used to be really close, but then a lot of the time work made things hard. We couldn't see each other really often. I miss how close we used to be… But I'm not sure if they're interested anymore."

Alessia rested a comforting hand on Italy's shoulder. Italy looked at Alessia and smiled brightly. "You're lucky to have found someone like Mario! He's so kind, and he's always around even though he has to work sooo long! When is his next…" Italy went on with the conversation, but one thought kept bouncing around in his head.

What was Italy to Germany?

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: Me no owny.<strong>

**Gah! Curse you OC's! XDD But, the Rimoldi family should only come up once after this, so we good. XD **

**Anyways, it the weekend! Meaning it's my sleeping time. XD**

**I'm super tired, so no long note today. D:**

**Thanks for the new stalks/favorites!**

**And thank you **Moelolo**,** Captain Lye **and **Mal ()** for the reviews! XDD**


	6. The Future and Watching From Afar

America stood outside the oval office again. He tapped his foot impatiently, glancing at the guards on either side of the door. Alfred sighed exasperatedly, hoping feebly that one of the guards would react and tell him how long he would have to stand here.

After reading the rest of the folder, America had called Alicia and set up a meeting. The rest of the vanilla folder had detailed how an action plan could be set in place to stop the predicted disasters that would become America. Alfred sighed again, louder and even more exasperated that the first one. Guard B's left eye twitched.

Two days ago, when America had set up the meeting, England had demanded what was wrong with America. America, being the slippery scamp he was, weaseled his way out of answering except for a vague, "I'll take care of it, Iggy."

The next day, when America had told England he was going to a meeting tomorrow with the boss lady again, England had once again morphed into super protective mothering mode and insisted he came along with America to his meeting. America loved having the island nation with him so he happily agreed; as long as England stayed at his house when America actually attended the meeting.

America sighed one great, long whopper of a sigh. Guard B's eye twitched again and his hand twitched over the handle of his gun. America frowned. If he didn't get back to England soon, he was sure England would storm into the White House, demanding to see Alfred. England could be pretty clingy when he wanted, America mused.

America sucked in breath for the biggest sigh of them all, when Guard B opened the door and nodded at America. "In." He hissed between clenched teeth.

America skipped through the door, smiling at Guard B as he did so. As soon as the nation walked through the door, he could _feel_ the tension in the air. It was the exact same atmosphere that a room gave off when you left England and France alone in the same room. America assumed it had to do with the guard in the corner, though he wasn't sure.

Alicia smiled tightly at America. "Hopefully you finished the folder. What did you think…?"

America shrugged and slumped into the chair in front of Alicia's desk. "It seems like a good idea. But, could you explain it a bit more? I have like, this weird thing that I'm a better verbal learner."

Alicia nodded once. "Right," She slipped into a well rehearsed speech. "The first part that The Plan speaks about it boosting up our export, boosting in our money increase."

America nodded. "I got that, but-"

Alicia hissed, "Let me finish!" She stood and began to pace absently around the room. Once she gathered her thoughts, she continued, "My idea would be to start back up the mills. A few years ago, we switched to the Japanese and Chinese imports, which shut down a lot of our jobs, export and our money flow. We would start in a few major states- Massachusetts and Georgia, for instance, and slowly spread our way out. In the process, we could slowly wean ourselves away from relying so much from the Asian imports."

America raised his hand, figuring this would be an acceptable way to ask a question. After a few moments of staring, Alicia nodded. "America…?

America spread his hands, "Great idea, but won't that piss off Japan and China? Plus, where would we get the materials for the mills products." America grinned slyly when he saw Alicia's eyes widen slightly. _Damn_ right, America could talk business!

Alicia blinked and shook her head, pacing slightly faster. "That's the thing. We would trade off actual products and replace the trade with materials. Plus we could use some corn farming lands and convert them into cotton or other materials we could use."

America snorted, "If you haven't noticed, people _love_ corn by-products. Cheeze Its, peanut butter and a ton of different snack food people love. We would-"

Alicia cut him off, "Trade roots with Italy, even Germany and France. If the mills get going and we produce a lot of goods, we could trade with other countries. Therefore producing jobs, goods and money." Alicia stopped pacing and looked at America, "That would be step one. Depending on how the public reacted and how fast we could get production started, it could be a matter of months."

America rested his hands behind his head. He smiled slowly, "Alicia, you're one damn scary, cold, heartless bitch. But you're ideas are gold."

Alicia nodded once. "I know."

**… A few months later …**

China let out an angry hiss and threw his trade statistics on the desk in front of him. Damn that America! "I can not believe this, aru! America cut down on my mining exports _again_!"

Japan, from the other side of the desk, nodded in agreement. He was angry too, but also in a slight panic to figure out _why_ America had decided to stop trading so much with him. "I feel your pain, China-san. America-san has also cut my trades. He made more with Germany-san for his engineering." Japan said, sinking slightly in his chair. Maybe Japan had dishonored him somehow…

China stomped walked around, letting out little mews of anger. "He made more trades with _Russia_! What does that big- big- vodka drinking _Sha bi _have that I don't have, aru!"

Japan glared at China. "Please stop swearing, China-san! It won't help." Japan had the feeling China's anger was more towards Russia getting all buddy-buddy with America over oil.

Japan almost felt like swearing too. America had always been so helpful to Japan. He had opened Japan's ports, showed him the new world and had always been considered a close friend to Japan. And now America was trading with everyone else, it seemed, _except_ him. All in a few months.

Japan frowned slightly, thinking. "The next World Meeting is tomorrow. We could discuss this with America-san there. Ask him if this was some sort of… miscommunication…"

China swung around to look at Japan. "Miscommunication, aru? I'm pretty sure he would've known he cut his and your trades by _half_, Japan."

Japan felt his cheeks burn. It was a little less than half… "China-"

China turned and walked toward the door. "We'll talk to him tomorrow, aru!" China called out over his shoulder before stalking off down the hall.

Japan sank further into his chair. If only Japan knew _why_.

**… At the World Meeting …**

Antarctica didn't talk much. He didn't talk at all, really. He much preferred listening to other nations them himself. Antarctica liked World Meetings. He loved listening to all the nations talking, and he loved seeing the relationship problems. It was almost like the soap operas Australia watched on Fridays.

Antarctica walked into the room where the meeting was being held and instantly looked for a good spot to sit. Just out of the action zone, but close enough to listen in. He spotted Australia a little bit down in the seats, and trotted over and sat a few seats over. Australia sat more towards the middle ends, while the bigger, more important nations sat dead center, so sitting a few seats over…

Antarctica stiffened slightly when Australia moved over to sit with Antarctica. Australia smiled warmly at the southern country. "G'day, Penguin."

Antarctica nodded once in greeting, smiling slightly at the nickname Australia had given him. Australia was tall; with dark skin that Antarctica couldn't figure out was really tan or actually light brown. Australia also had light brown hair that constantly fell into his pretty green eyes. Australia also did this funny hair flip that made Antarctica smile whenever he did it.

Antarctica himself was very bland. He was pale, and was always warm unless he was back in his own continent. He wore light clothes when he wasn't home, which was a lot. His hair was black, with the ends orangey. Antarctica's nickname 'Penguin' derived from his hair.

Antarctica, busy studying Australia, had missed a few nations coming inside. Antarctica whipped around, taking in who had come in. Japan had arrived with China, who was looking quite pissed. Germany was also sitting down, shuffling a few papers he had, and looking at the door every few minutes. Probably looking for Italy, if Antarctica had to guess; Germany did that every meeting until the northern half of Italy came flitting in.

Antarctica looked around eagerly for America, wanting to see how his new boss lady was treating him. Australia, feeling quite ignored to Antarctica's other side, prodded the quiet nation. "I have some juicy news fer ya', Penguin."

This caught Antarctica's attention and he turned to face Australia. Australia smiled having Antarctica's attention on him, and whispered, "China an' Japan are angry cuz' of America."

Antarctica whipped around again to study the two. China looked angry, but Japan just looked mopey. What could America have done…?

Speaking of the devil, the cocky nation had just come into the meeting room, along with a few others. America was chatting happily to England- they had sure gotten closer since the last time Antarctica had seen them. Russia was walking a little ways behind the two of them, along with the three Baltic Nations. Antarctica noted China's glare at Russia, and Russia's smile fall.

Italy was also in the group that had arrived with America. The nation was practically singing as he took his seat across from Germany with America's group, he was so happy. Antarctica tilted his head when he saw Germany catch eyes with Italy and look at America pointedly but was then distracted by another nudge in his side.

Antarctica whipped around again and frowned slightly at Australia. There was _drama_ going on! What could-

Australia huffed and crossed his arms. "Ya' could ask me how the others were doing…"

Antarctica sighed and patted Australia's hand. Australia smiled, "But then 'gain, I have no idea. I just wanted to get ya' attention!"

Antarctica sighed then nodded resignedly. Australia told him animatedly about how it was box jelly fish season, and people were being stung all over. Antarctica whipped around again when Germany slammed his fist down on the table.

"Time to start the meeting!" He yelled, making everyone in the meeting room jump. The roar of the nations quieted down to whispers.

France raised his hand, "I 'ave something to say." He stood up slowly; making sure everyone's attention was on him. He looked dead serious, and with a heavy sigh, he said, "England's eye brows are looking even more 'ideous then usual." He sat back down, nodding gravely.

"Excuse me you bloody codger! I'll have you know-"

"Enough!" Germany yelled again, unusually irritable, "I don't want any of this nonsense today! Only speak if you have something important to say- Political, France." Germany snapped.

China stood up, looking directly at America. "I have something to say, aru."

Antarctica felt his insides do a funny flutter thing. This was going to be good…

America gave China an easy, if anything slightly nervous smile. "Sure, China. You can say anything."

China gritted his teeth and spoke with a calm, slow voice. "Do you mind telling me, aru, why you are cutting trades?"

There were a few moments of silence before America answered. "Is there anything wrong with expanding my trade options? I though, uh… It wouldn't affect you much…" He asked uneasily, shifting in his seat.

China sat down quickly and muttered something to Japan. Japan stood, glancing around nervously. "It's… It's just that it's been a little tough for us, America-san…"

Italy smiled brightly at Japan, "Ve! I'd be happy to trade with you, Japan! And you too, China!"

China hissed, "I don't want your help, aru! You're just happy someone is paying attention and treating you like an adult since Germany-"

Japan turned and glared down at China. "China-san! Italy-sun was just trying to be kind!" Japan faced the meeting again, bowing slightly, "We're sorry to have brought this up when some of us weren't thinking clearly." He sat down, sinking into his chair slightly.

China muttered something in his own tongue before remaining silent. There were a few, horrible moments of silence before Germany coughed. "Uhm… Anyone else?"

Antarctica leaned back in his chair, his thoughts flying around in his head. That had been the most eventful meeting he'd seen in awhile. His mind slowly chewed through the information, storing it for later thought. America was cutting trades with Japan and China, and they were pissed. There was obviously a lot more going on that the meeting had only revealed a little of.

Antarctica heard Australia beside him say, "I'll expand my trade with them…" He turned to face the brunette, frowning slightly.

Australia shrugged, "I disagree with what America's doin'. 'S all…"

Antarctica nodded once then turned back to the meeting, hoping something else as exciting would happen…

**… After the World Meeting…**

America sank into his couch, glad to be home. That had been a bad meeting. China was furious, and poor Japan was deeply hurt. While cutting off the Asian nations had been helping America's economy, he had completely forgotten it could affect _others_.

America rubbed his eyes, wishing desperately for a cup of coffee. At this point, he couldn't tell if it was his own need for coffee, or his people's. Alicia had cut a lot of coffee trade with South America, and the people of America were angry.

Alfred chuckled lightly. You'd think they'd be _happy_. Alicia's idea had, obviously, been a great success. There were more mills popping up all over the country, and his economy was improving, and people could have a job again. America was feeling a lot better too, losing a headache he didn't know he had and feeling a bit more energetic.

Alfred dozed on his couch for about an hour, dreaming about coffee beans and birds chirping 'Aru, aru, aru!' A sudden knock on his door caused America to fall of his couch and stagger over his front door. He opened it sleepily. "Hullo?" He asked sleepily.

"Ve… America? Were you sleeping…?"

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. You would know...<strong>

**Oh good golly! Longest chappie yet! XD My back hurts... The chair I sit in for hours is very uncomfortable. XDD**

**A time skip. You should know I aboslutley hate these, but I saw now other way around it. DX But know I will avoid these whenever possible! (Just like the original character?) Sh-shut up!**

**Antarctica was a special guest. I needed someone completly observant. *Nod nod* And Australia isn't an original character, as I originally thought! He's just not in any English stuff, so I haven't heard of him. But there's a picture of him so bla~ **

**Italy! And a cliffhanger? Just so you know, I hate cliffhangers, but everyone always pulls them on _me_ and it was high time I bring misfortune to others! Ahahahaha!**

**Thank you for the new stalks/favorites! Know it makes me happy and my inbox full! XDD**

**Thank you **Moelolo**, **Lady Psychopath**, **Mothy.D **and **Invader Lye** for your awesome reviews~ You all get popcorn! *Showers with popcorn***

**And know the order in which I thank you all is the order in which you commented. My Paranoia just wanted to let you know in case you started judging me. Because that's what I think of while writing this... .'**

**Bye! Remember, you get treats for reviewing! ;D**


	7. Tiramiso

Italy shifted from foot to foot, awaiting America's answer. Italy hadn't meant to awaken the super power, and he would leave if-

America smiled warmly at Italy, "Yeah, but it doesn't matter. What'cha need, Italy?"

Instantly, Italy's mood brightened. "Ve! I was just thinking how China was being mean and that maybe you'd like – pasta – to cheer you up! I even brought the ingredients in my basket so all I need is your kitchen! And then maybe we could watch March of the Penguins or-"

America had stopped listening after the word pasta, and opened the door wider for Italy. "Hey, as long as you have food, you're always welcome!"

Italy skipped inside, talking as he did so. "Oh, um, so I can use your kitchen? Ve, all right! I love pasta, but I bet you know that! I have the best recipe in all of Europe, and only two other people know it!" Italy by this time had set up the ingredients and was looking for bowls in America's kitchen.

America meanwhile, was staring at the cake-like dessert Italy had pulled out of that wonderful basket of his. "Hey, Italy, what is that?" America asked, mouth watering.

Italy looked at the dessert in question then smile. "Oh, that's tiramisu! It's like a cake. My friend gave me the recipe, and I tried it out. Ve, I need someone else's opinion…" Italy smiled hopefully at America.

Alfred nodded, putting on a serious face. "It's my duty as a hero to make sure your dessert is awesome!" A large grin spread across America's face.

Italy began to prepare the pasta, humming to himself. "Germany, Germany is a real-" He caught sight of a picture on America's window sill and wandered over, looking at it.

It was a picture of England, looking happily flustered, and America, one arm slung casually over the island nation's shoulder. Italy looked back at America, observing him slobber over the tiramisu, then back at the picture. "America, when was this taken?" He pointed.

America looked up sharply then blushed. "Oh uhm- A few weeks ago. Why ya' asking?"

Italy shrugged and turned back to cooking. "I was just wondering. How is England? I haven't talked with him recently, ve… He's always with us, but never really speaks up." Italy smiled apologetically, like it was his fault for England not talking.

Italy, Russia, England and America had been hanging out a lot recently, but Italy never really heard England talk. He complained, sure, but never talked about his social life or anything really; he just yelled at America or went along with schemes grumpily.

America scratched the back of his head. "Oh, well… He's good." America laughed, blushing, "He says it's been too sunny lately in London, which doesn't make much sense, huh? Why would you _want_ rainy days? It wouldn't even be rain this time of year; it'd be sleet which is gross. But why?"

Italy laughed, dumping the pasta in a pot of boiling water and beginning to make the sauce. "I have no idea. I hate rain." Italy's eyes widened, "I-I don't hate rain, b-but…"

America nodded eagerly. "Oh I know, right dude! I hate it too. I… When can I eat this cake? It's begging me to eat it…" He inched his hand closer to the tiramisu, licking his lips.

Italy was faster though, and swung his trusty wooden spoon that he took everywhere down onto America's hand. America yelped and nursed his hand, pouting at Italy.

Italy giggled and waggled his finger, "_No, no torta per voi!_! My _fratello_ would always try to steal food too!" He twirled his spoon expertly, "It's either adapt or lose all your ingredients!" He looked around America's kitchen, lost. "Ve… Where are your plates?"

America grinned and pointed at the cake. "Give me a slice and I'll tell ya'!" He crossed his arms triumphantly.

Italy rested his hands on his hips. "No pasta for you then." A smile played across his lips when he saw America's inner conflict. "Tick, tock. The pasta's getting cold."

America pointed at a cabinet. "In there, you win." He huffed moodily, eyebrows furrowing in a very England like way.

Italy laughed and got two plates, scooping on a mountainous amount of pasta onto each plate and topping it off with sauce. He set the steaming plate in front of America and handed him a fork. America, grumpiness forgotten, dug into his meal as quickly as possible.

He gazed up at Italy with nothing short of admiration in his eyes. "Italy… This is… _amazing_. H-how…"

Italy sat down next to America, tapping his head knowingly. "I told you, ve, I have the best recipe in all of Europe!"

After dinner and cake- which America proclaimed the best dessert ever- America decided they needed to watch a scary movie. Italy, not knowing exactly what this declaration would lead to, happily accepted. They were now sitting on America's couch, browsing on Demand for a scary movie.

"This one sounds good." America said. He ordered some sort of ghost movie, paused it before it went on and ran around shutting off all the lights accept for the small one in the kitchen.

America then jumped back on the couch and pressed 'Play.' Italy, not really paying attention, reflected on the good night he'd had. Italy ate amazing pasta, had amazing cake and had a really fun time with America.

Italy's thoughts flicked to Germany, and he felt his happy mood begin to slip away. He used to have pasta with Germany like this too… Italy shook his head sharply. No. Germany had work to do, and Italy couldn't distract him.

Italy frowned when he thought back to the Word Meeting. Germany had seemed angry at Italy, and for the pasta of him, Italy couldn't figure out why. Italy sighed. Germany acted so tough, but when he really needed to tell someone what his problem was, he let that toughness get in the way. Maybe Italy-

"OHMIGOLLY!" America yelled from Italy's side, gripping his arm tightly, "The-the wheelchair moved _on its own_!"

Italy winced, looked down at his arm, and then looked back at the movie. Now that Italy thought about it, he hadn't watched very many scary movies. What type of movie was this? Was it a documentary like the penguin movie or…

Italy let out a small 'Ve!' when he saw a large light fall down on its own. America blubbered next to him, "The ghosts! Th-they pushed the light!"

Italy let out a whimper. This movie _looked_ like a documentary but Germany had always said ghosts weren't real. But the more the movie dragged on, the more Italy became scared.

Suddenly, on the screen, a girl appeared with her back facing the camera. Italy felt his stomach flutter. Why were they walking _towards_ her? Why were they asking her-

The girl turned slightly so Italy could see her face. A few, tense, silent moments later, the girl's mouth opened and cracked to the side. It was too much for Italy. He pushed off America and bolted toward the front door, waving the white flag that mysteriously appeared when Italy was retreating.

"_Dio mio_! Please, I'm a virgin! I have relatives in creepy asylums!" Italy shouted, sobbing as he ran out the door.

America yelled after him, "Don't leave me, please! The ghosts- !"

**… Germany …**

Germany sighed and looked at the large piles of paperwork he had to do. It didn't make sense. He never saw any of the other nations doing work… But still somehow Germany still got ten binders of trades and stocks to look through.

Germany's thoughts wandered, inadvertently avoiding work. He hadn't heard from Prussia in awhile. Sure, he heard from other sources about what the Bad Touch Trio were up to, but Prussia hadn't actually talked to Germany in _ages_…

_Nein_! He should be working, not worrying.

Germany had just picked up his pen when his phone rang. Germany picked it up, annoyed. "Hallo?" He barked into the receiver.

"Ger- Germany…?" A scared voice asked through the receiver.

Germany's voice instantly softened, "Feli…? Why did you-" He furrowed his eyebrows. Don't ask him _why_. "What happened?"

Italy whimpered, "Germany… People's faces… they don't do that! Her face Germany…"

Germany blinked. What in the world… "Feli, you're not making sense. What happened?" His voiced turned more commanding, out of either annoyance or worry, "Out with it!"

Italy took a deep breath from the other line. "I watched a ghost movie with… I watched a ghost movie. I got scared and ran away and… Her _face_ Germany! Veveve! And now I'm at some creepy bar with people tapping on the glass and Germany! Help!"

Germany sighed. "I'll be right there…"

**… Location unknown …**

Chez doodled absently on the sheet of paper in front of him. He hated waiting for everyone to arrive. Of course, they had to take their time arriving at the same place or someone could get curious. And Chez didn't want people snooping.

Chez gazed around at the table. It was long, with twelve chairs on either side and one at each end. Currently, they only needed half the amount of chairs for the members, but it gave people the option of where to sit. Chez was in the middle, only one chair next to him occupied.

The man next to him was short, with blonde hair that hung down messily into his eyes. He was handcuffed to the table, though it wasn't necessary. The Order had held the man for a few months, and they knew he wouldn't run away. It was more of a custom to have the man restrained one way or another.

The blonde man poked Chez, "Hey. When are all these people gonna' get here?" The man asked, frowning. "Not that I don't love all y'all's secretness, but I can't keep missin' work. It bad enough y'all always gots some man taggin' me, but now the meetings?"

Chez shrugged. "Can't tell you."

The man tugged on the handcuff. "Do I really need this? Still?"

Chez shook his head. "Shut it. People are coming in."

A few people slipped into the meeting room, sitting down. They all looked the same physically, powerful and thickly built. Each also had the shield symbol somewhere on their persons.

Chez felt his hands grow clammy. He hated public speaking. He stood up, smiling. "Greetings, everyone."

The small assembly muttered back a greeting. "As you know, it's our monthly meeting to see how everyone's doing!" He turned to a bald man sitting a few seats down from him. "How's my group doing?" Worry shined in his eyes. Chez had been away for awhile and he was anxious on how his recruits were doing.

The bald man nodded. "Very well. Not many new recruits, but a whole slew of people got knocked up a rank. Belfler and Smith came out highest in the rankings."

Chez beamed. "Tell Andy-" Chez coughed, "T-tell them I said congratulations. Who's next?" The meeting went on for a bit like this. No one said anything specific, just the flow of 'recruits' and how many got promoted up a rank. Few names were mentioned, and any that were mentioned were last names. Once everyone had spoken, Chez stood up again.

"We have more news. Our friend," He nodded down at the blonde man, "Has agreed to report to us if anyone suspects anything in the newspaper."

The blonde man snorted. "I'll just dumb it down so no one makes any real important-like connections." He huffed, "Like I have a choice, with y'all always up my ass monitoring me…"

Chez coughed. "Anyways, that should conclude our meeting this month. Next month I'll be sure to find a safer location to talk more in detail. I'll send you the new date and place soon. Keep up the recruitment. Train hard. I'll need the specific number of recruits by next meeting. That's all."

Chez sat back down, letting out a relieved sigh. Things were going well. Alicia would be pleased.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. Or any movies mentioned above.<strong>

**Hullo~ I went bowling today. I got 90, then failed in last place with a 70... Ahaha...**

**My gosh, is this a filler chapter? Why yes, yes it is. I've always though America and Italy would get along well. They're both so... Bubbily. XD **

**The scary movie mentioned is Grave Encounters. Scary shiz, right dar. :P**

**Anyways, thanks for the new stalks/favorites! You all make my in-box so full... :'D**

**And thanks **Lady Psychopath**,** Invader Lye**,** Moelolo**,** Hi **and** To cool for school **for your reviews! You all get bowling pins! *Showers with bowling pins***

**Remember, reviewers get treats!**

**(Psst! **Moelolo **is writing a story called Haircut! Check it out. :P)**


	8. Slippers

England was sleeping. It was late and he was sleeping like a normal person should be sleeping. He should've known America would ruin it.

The doorbell rang five times, followed by an, "Iggggyyyy!"

England let out a startled, "Alfred?" Before rolling out of his bed and trudging down the stairs. He was going to strangle the super power. He would strangle him like he would France.

England opened the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. It was surprisingly not raining out, but the night still had the winter chill to it. America stood on his doorstep, shivering and looking wide eyed and scared.

England sighed and furrowed his brow. "America. It's late and I woul- Oh bloody 'ell you've been watching ghost movies again. Get your arse inside and I'll get you a cup of tea."

America smiled faintly and scampered inside England's house, murmuring something about a girl's face. England shut the door, sighing. As much as he loved Alfred's late night visits, sometimes he wished America could be a little self dependant.

"Iggy!" Came America's cry from the kitchen.

England sighed, "Coming, you bloody git."

**… France …**

France tapped his hands impatiently on the steering wheel of his car. "_Dieu me damne_! _La lumière est verte_! _Allez_! I s'vear to go you drive worse than Italy!" The car in front of him finally turned and France could resume driving to England's house.

France was troubled and he needed to discuss his worries with England. At the World Meeting, France had been deeply concerned with how aggravated China was. America could go ahead and cut trades with whoever as far as France was concerned, but America was now asking to trade with France. If China decided that it was America's and everyone else's fault his economy was failing, they had a problem on their hands.

France pulled to a stop outside England's house and was immediately displeased with what he saw. America's car was parked messily in England's driveway. It would be difficult to talk about the super power if he was in the room…

France checked his clock. Then again… It _was_ seven, and America was a lazy person, so maybe he would remain asleep. France jumped out of his car, locked it and walked up to England's front door. He didn't risk ringing the door bell and use his trusty 'emergency' key instead.

France snuck into England's house, looking around. He then tip-toed up the stair, picturing he was a French spy going to assassinate some evil mafia leader. France then gently pushed opened England's door and grinned at what he saw.

America was sidewise on England's bed, snoring slightly with a pillow over his head. England was on- no _sprawled_ over America, his head on the other nations fluffy belly. England was also wearing Alfred's shirt and god knows whose boxers.

France clicked his tongue and leaned over England then said softly into his ear, "I thought the girl wears the man's shirt, non? Ohonhonhon!"

Arthur frowned, "Alfie, go back to-" England's thick eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like he was thinking. Then, his eyes snapped open and glared at France. "You- you- !" England was furious.

France laughed again and trotted back to the door way. "Come, I 'ave-" Suddenly, France was smacked in the face with something, causing him to squawk awkwardly. He rubbed his nose and looked down to see a-

"A slipper? Really?" France asked, incredulously. No one, _no one_, smacked France in the face with a slipper.

England held the other slipper up threateningly, "Get out of our room, you wanking minger!"

"Our room?" France asked, smiling slyly before ducking out of the room, just avoiding the slipper that 'thunked' against the wall where he had just been standing.

France proceeded to wait down stairs for England, sighing impatiently. Finally, France heard England stomp down the stairs.

"What the 'ell do you want, _Frog_." England spat out angrily. He was wearing pants now, France observed lightly.

France shadowed England into the kitchen, waiting for the island nation to make himself some tea and settle down in his reading chair. France sat across from England, popping his lips absently while gathering his thoughts.

"It iz about America." France began.

England snorted, "If it's anything about what you just saw, pish off." He took another sip of his tea.

France crossed his arms, "As much as I would love to comment on how you looked using 'Alfie' as a pillow, I have something important to discuss with you."

England narrowed his eyes, setting down his cup of tea and furrowed his eyebrows. "I'd like to see the day where you took something seriously. But go on…"

France took a deep breath, "As you know, America has been expanding his trade options with other countries and also producing his own goods. This has seemed to piss Japan and mainly China off." France rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking about what to say next.

England shrugged slightly, "America knows what he's doing. If he feels it's safe to continue cutting off China, who are we to say he should stop?"

France leaned back in the chair. "Oui, I agree. But if China should take… more drastic measures…"

England snorted, "You mean war, bloody Frog."

France ran a hand through his beautiful hair and looked at England, "I wanted to know what you were planning to do, if something were to break out…?"

England 'tsk'ed.' "Why? Do you want to know? So you can join the opposite side? I-"

France glared darkly at England. "Just answer the damn question, _sourcils_."

England looked down, giving the thought serious thought. France waited silently, fidgeting. He hated awkward silences. They made him want to fill the silence with random blathering.

England finally looked up. "Neutral."

France let out a relieved sigh. "Oui, oui very good I-"

"Artie…? Where are you?" Came a sleepy voice from upstairs.

France smirked slightly when he saw England jump up, heading toward the stairs. "Down here, America. No wait, go back up."

America murmured a reply back. France strained his ears, trying to hear what the pair were talking about.

"Because. Go put pants on, you bloody git. _Because_. France is here. Go. _Go_." England hissed at America quietly, obviously trying hard not to be heard by France.

France snickered at England when he came back down the stairs. "I see you two 'ave gotten closer. Won't America need his shirt back…?"

England sucked in a deep breath, blushing. "Go move your car," He hissed out between clenched teeth, "America has to go to a meeting."

France laughed again, moving towards the front door. "Oui, being a good wife and making sure 'Alfie' gets to work on time."

England blushed deeply, "I'll have you know-"

"Iggy!" Alfred moaned from the top of the stairs, "My back hurtsss!"

France raised an eyebrow at England, "I thought… Apparently America is the wife." France yelped when a phone sailed through the air at his head.

France ran out the front door, yelling, "Non! Non! Not my beautiful face!" He hopped in his car and drove away fast.

**… At the White House a few hours later …**

America found himself waiting outside of Alicia's office again. He was grumpy, he wanted coffee and his back _killed_. America pouted at Guard A.

"Can't I just go in? What's she even doing in there anyways?" America huffed reproachfully. He just wanted to talk to Alicia then go back to bed. Take aspirin _then_ go back to bed.

Guard A sighed. "She likes to gather her thoughts before talking to you, that's all."

America rubbed his lower back, snorting. "Well that's the dumbest reason I've ever heard of."

Guard B growled and opened the door. "Get in."

America sighed happily and walked into the room, eager to sit down. Imagine his shock when he found a man sitting in the chair in front of Alicia's office. Alfred recognized him as the guard who constantly watched Alicia.

Alicia was standing by the windows, not turning around to face America. "Hello, America." She said sharply. "I understand that there's been some fiction between you and China."

America opened his mouth to respond, but shut it promptly when he felt a giggle coming on. Friction. Between him and China… Oh, god…

America shook his head, trying not to laugh, "Yes, there has been some… some…" America broke down into giggles. "O-oh my god!"

Alicia whirled around to face America. "Excuse me? Do you think this is funny? Having someone with a giant population force for an _army_ give us death glares? You think this is a laughing matter?" She stalked forward.

America felt a twinge of fear in his stomach, and he slowly backed away. "N-no, I just was thinking-"

Alicia continued her approach, fuming. "No, you weren't! You didn't try and resolve anything at the meeting! You just up and left and- and- You're an utter and complete moron! I have to worry about all this, and you can prance around with your- _boyfriend_ while I have to worry about-"

Alfred hissed and took a step closer to Alicia, looming over her. "You don't think I worry? About how my friends will look at me after I completely _screw them over_! I worry about war, and if you make my economy die! Don't pretend you're all high and mighty because-"

Alicia pushed America back, "What? Me make your economy _die_? I'm the best thing to happen to your economy since-"

The guard stepped between the arguing pair and turned to Alicia. "Lish, stop." He said softly, "This isn't the way to approach things. Tell him what he needs to know then send him away."

America, for a moment, thought that Alicia was going to slap the guard, but she took a slow, deep breath and turned back toward the window, walking away. "You tell him, Chez."

Chez nodded and turned to face America. He smiled wanly. "Alicia has set up a meeting with China and Japan about the trading issues on the fifteenth. It's at China's house. She also wants you to read this."

America stiffened when he saw Chez reach down onto the desk and hand America a vanilla folder. America felt that irrational panic swell inside his chest. He nodded to Chez. "Right. Will do." He sounded horse, even to his own ears.

America left the office quickly, nervously fingering the vanilla folder. Another god damn vanilla folder he would have to read. America sighed and quickly rifled through the folder, frowning when he saw a picture of a cow.

"Aw hell… This ones on food." America moaned.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: Oui, I own nothing.<strong>

**My golly? Two chapters?**

**Yes, yes in deed. Why? Because. :D**

**If anyone was curious, it March 10 in the story right now. Just so y'all know.**

**Anyways, thanks to the new stalks/favorites that I got. In a few hours. **

**And reviews. Thanks **Lady Psychopath**,** Invader Lye **and **Moelolo**. :D Now review again. :p**

**This time you get... Uhm... Exacto knives. But, I won't shower them. *Gently hands exacto knives***

**P.S. Sorry for any bowling bin related injuries. '^.^**


	9. Hard Choices and Puppies

Japan hugged his knees close to his chest, observing China silently. China was angry, still, and no one had been able to calm the nation down. Japan had tried everything, pandas, rice wine and snacks. Nothing was working and Japan felt his worthlessness meter go up a few more notches.

For all Japan's introductions to the modern world, he still felt slightly out of place and relied heavily on America for explanations of the new 'phases' his people went through. But now America had completely cut Japan off, and now he was both in the dark about what planking was and felt worthless.

_Was I really so… replaceable_? Japan thought gloomily, _That America could be my friend for all those years then just stop trading- and talking to me?_

Japan hugged his knees closer to his body and glanced sideways at China. China was playing absently with a panda bear plushy, glaring at the door. Japan glanced at the clock on the wall. America was half an hour late for their meeting…

"If," China said suddenly, making Japan jump, "He isn't here in the next five minutes, I'm leaving, aru."

Japan blinked, frowning slightly. "But you know America-san… He's late a lot."

China snorted, "Just like he was late for your earthquake rescue?" Japan just shrugged, looking dully at the wall ahead of him. Japan felt the rational part of his brain tell him it was stupid to defend Alfred.

China's face softened after a moment. "I'm sorry, aru. I didn't mean that. But… You'd think he'd be on time for _this_, aru."

Japan shrugged again, biting his lip. He winced when he tasted blood, but didn't stop chewing. The part of his brain- that often told him to always smile awkwardly at Greece- told Japan to defend America yet again.

There was a bang from down the hall, a muttered curse, then America slammed opened the door to the office room. He smiled happily, not sensing the negative mood in the room. "Hiya! I got lost, plus there was this really cool building-" America caught China glaring daggers, and he quickly sat down across from the Eastern nations.

Japan felt that annoying part of his brain snap at Japan to say hi to America. Japan tilted his head slightly and smiled lightly. "Welcome, America-san." He greeted, sitting up a little straighter. Japan glanced over at China nudged him.

China crossed his arms, picking up Japan's subtle hint to be polite. "Sure, aru. Welcome. Hope you had fun touring around my country. It's probably the last time you'll see it at its full glory."

America laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "So… about the um… trades."

China hissed. "Yes, America. About the trades, aru. You need to stop cutting them off. It's affecting everyone's economy, aru."

Alfred shifted awkwardly, obviously feeling flustered. Japan tried to amend China's words, to put his friend at ease. "China-san means to say that… he feels it would better benefit everyone if you stopped limiting out trades."

"I… I'm sorry, China. Japan. But… I… I need to trade with other people too!" America's eyes hardened slightly, "I know it's been difficult, but it's been great for a lot others, too. B-but I know Japan's been trading with Australia, so maybe…"

China slammed his fist down on the table. "Maybe what? We can shift our entire trade of- of- whatever you Americans buy to Australia! We can't just do that, aru! He doesn't want food shaped erasers, aru!"

America looked away, rubbing his eyes. Japan hoped for a moment that America was at least considering…

"Yao… I'm sorry. But… I just can't." America said softly, fiddling with a loose thread on his sleeve. Japan felt disappointment claw at his stomach. America could ruin his and China's entire economy…

China narrowed his eyes. "You just can't, aru. But you can ruin my economy! You're lucky I don't declare war on you-"

Alfred looked up sharply, "Why would you?" He asked furrowing his eyebrows, "If your economy is doing as bad as you say it is, it can't take the strain of war."

China looked down at his panda plushy. "That's why I'm not, aru. It'd be a bit like suicide. But," China looked harshly at America, "If you ever need help, don't come to me, aru."

America looked down sadly. "I… I understand." He looked hesitantly up at Japan, "And you, Kiku?"

Japan felt his brain do a little tug-o-war. America is his friend. America cut off trade. America doesn't have a choice. Americ-

Japan bit his lip, closing his eyes thinking. "I… It depends." He said finally, looking solemnly up at America. He didn't like this indecision, but Japan just couldn't decide.

America nodded and stood, smiling slightly. "Well… then maybe we can still be friends, Kiku. I would really like that. Maybe you could come over next Friday…?"

Japan raised one shoulder in a half shrug. "We'll see, America-san. Goodbye." He watched America walked toward the door, looking too happy for losing an alley, possibly two.

But maybe that's why Japan liked America so much; he was always so happy. Japan hugged his knees again, biting his lip.

… **Spain …**

Italy carried a small bag of clothes, slung casually over his shoulder. He skipped casually down the road, smiling at all the pretty girls. He was finally going to visit his _fratello_! Italy hated how far away Romano always was. Always with Spain…

Italy stopped outside a pretty little house, smiling. He liked Spain's house, it was close enough to down town to run and grab a bit to eat, but far away enough to not have much traffic. Italy also never needed to remember the house number or street it was on; all he had to do was look for the tomato plants.

Italy skipped down the path to the front door, singing, "Romano~ Ve~ Spaina~ Ve~"

There was the muted sound of running footsteps before a breathless Spain opened the door. "Ah! Hola, Feliciano! So nice of you to visit."

Italy hugged- or more of tackle hugged- Spain. "Antonio! It's so good to see you again! I haven't seen you or Lovino in so long! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me but then you called and invited me over and I knew that you hadn't! How have you been? Where is my _fratello_ and why is there a puppy?" Italy kept off Spain, glancing down at the puppy.

Spain frowned, brushed himself off and shut the door. After a moment, he replied, ever so slowly, "I know you haven't seen us in awhile. We've been… ah… busy. But we would never forget you." Spain went on, having to finally finished processing Italy's rapid words, "Me and Lovi have been real good. Your brother is off getting food and…" Spain glanced at the puppy in question.

Italy bent down and was trying to pet the puppy, which growled and turned his back away from Italy. It was a pretty orangey-red color, with big floppy ears and a long nose. He was also very skinning and had a short tail.

Spain rubbed the back of his head. "Well it seems Lovi wanted to add more members to the family. So, next thing I know he comes home with Tomate, which is this guy and another puppy Lovi named 'Pigro.'"

Italy laughed and managed to pick up Tomate and rub his belly. Italy looked around, puzzled. "Where is Pigro?"

Spain laughed and sat down next to Italy, scratch over to pet Tomate behind his ears. "Lovi took him shopping. He keeps say Pigro will get fat if he doesn't exercise, but he always ends up feeding Pigro scraps from the table…"

There was a bang from the front door, followed by a "Let me in, bastardo!" Spain immediately jumped up and opened the door for Romano.

"Lovi!" Spain cooed happily, "Your brother's here now!" He took some of the grocery bags from Romano and took them to the kitchen. "You should stop getting treats for Pigro!" Spain shouted a moment later from the kitchen.

Roman huffed and hugged his remaining bag defensively. "The dog would move until I bought them!" A second puppy rolled happily though the door at Romano's feet.

Pigro was a dark brown dog with long, soft fur that fell into his eyes. He had two ears that stuck straight up and a long, elegant tail. Romano was right on one thing, the puppy needed to cut back on treats. Pigro had a pot belly that didn't go well with his short legs.

Italy let out an excited 'Ve!' and slid across the floor to the Pigro. "_Fratello_! You didn't tell me you got puppies! I would've come up to visit if I'd known sooner! You have to call more often, Lovino!" Italy leaned against Romano's legs, almost making the nation fall over.

Romano shut the door behind him and walked toward the kitchen to help Spain put away the groceries, kicking off Italy when he tried to cling to his legs. "Get off me, _culo faccia_!"

Italy huffed and stood up, brushing himself off before prancing into the kitchen. "Ve! Romano! When did you decided to adopt puppies? And where did you find them?" Italy asked Romano, poking him.

Romano sighed wearily before turning to Italy. "I'll tell you later ok- Tomate! Stop chewing the god damned couch!" Lovino dashed by Italy to scold the offending puppy.

Spain pouted after Romano. "It's an ugly couch anyways! Let him eat it!"

"Wha-? You _bastardo_! I picked out this couch!"

Italy glanced into the living room, frowning slightly. "I dunno', _fratello_, it isn't a very pretty couch…"

Romano looked up from where he was trying to pry Tomate's teeth out of the upholstery. "Both of you are traitors! You should be ashamed!"

Spain laughed warmly before turning back to the groceries. "Now, Feli, since you're the guest of honor, what would you like me to make for-"

Italy clapped his hands together joyfully, "Pasta!"

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. :D<strong>

**Hallo!**

**I know I missed yesterday's update, but I uploaded two the day before, so it doesn't matter. Least in my mind. *Nod nod* I should have more time tomorrow for a -longer- chapter. .' I had to drive around a lot today, plus homework so I couldn't type long. **

**Teehee, how many of you thought China was gonna' beat down America? Well, too bad! *Dances* The whole China/Japan idea was completely random. But it becomes important... eventually. *Runs around in circle* We're now almost half way down on the first page of my four page story plot. *Happiness***

**And Italy? Yep. Why? Because. Spain and Romano? Why? Because I wanted Spamano! *Sprinkles fairy dust* And puppies. Yep. Pigro means lazy in Itallian. Tomate... well, take a wild guess.**

**Anyways, thanks for the new stalks/favorites. ^^**

**Thanks **Too cool for school**, **Moelolo**,** HunterWindstalker** and **Invder Lye **for your kind reviews! Sorry if I don't respond. I try but... Heh. Tired mind says no.**

**You all get... Dun... Oreos! *Showers with oreos* **

**You want oreos? Review~ :D**


	10. Staring Contest

… **Prussia …**

Prussia pulled his car up to Canada's driveway, humming his awesome national anthem. He hadn't seen Canada in awhile and Prussia was itching for some of the northern nation's pancakes. Prussia's happy mood deflated slightly when he saw America's car sitting in Prussia's spot in the driveway. Prussia turned off the car and jumped out, wincing slightly when his sore back protested.

"Totally not awesome, back…" He muttered angrily, massaging his back and headed up to Canada's front door. He threw open the door and prepared to yell out his awesome arrival, when a hand clapped across his face, sufficiently quieting him.

Canada pushed Prussia against the wall, glancing around his shoulder nervously. "I'll let you go if you promise to keep quiet."

Prussia nodded slowly, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Canada nodded and slowly let his hand down from Prussia's mouth. He grabbed Prussia's hand and slowly led him to the living room, letting Prussia see the wonder going on inside.

America was huddled on one end of Canada's long couch, legs crossed and chin resting on his fist. He was staring intently at… a vanilla folder? Prussia frowned slightly. Yes, America was having a staring contest with a folder. Curious…

Prussia dragged Canada behind the protection of another wall and faced him. "What the hell is he doing?" Prussia whispered, grinning and trying not to laugh.

Canada looked out from behind the wall then quickly withdrew. "I have no idea!" Canada whispered back. "He just came and put the folder down. He hasn't moved in over an hour."

Prussia laughed softly. Canada shot him a look and continued, "I think he may be sick or something, eh? Maybe we should-"

"I wonder who will win." Prussia giggled.

Canada cast him a curious gaze. "… Eh?"

Prussia smirked. "I wonder who will win the staring contest."

Canada slapped Prussia's arm, pouting. "This is serious! We have to…" The rest of Canada's speech was drowned out in Prussia's ears. Canada had slapped a _bruise_ and oh, god that had hurt.

Prussia focused all his energy in not letting a grimace cross his face. _Damn, Canadia, in all places to slap, you slap the worst spot available. _Prussia thought, trying to nurse his arm inconspicuously.

Prussia was brought back to earth when Canada waved a hand in front of his face, looking slightly scared. "Eh? You okay…? You blanked out there…"

Prussia put on a forced smiled, turning slightly so that Canada couldn't reach his arm again. "Ja. What did you say?

Canada pouted and tried to see around Prussia. "Gil, what's wrong with your arm? Did you hurt it…?"

Prussia let out a frustrated sigh. He racked his brains for something to distract Canada. _Anything_!

"Oh, Matthew!" Prussia said loudly, smacking his hand against the wall behind him. "You naughty boy!" Canada tilted his head, confused. A cold look of realization spread across his face a moment later.

From the living room, there was a choked cough and spluttering. America had been snapped out of his daze and was currently in the same room as Canada and Prussia, looking embarrassed and angry at the same time. America grabbed Canada protectively and held him away from Prussia.

"Keep your filthy hands off my brother, you beer bastard!" America yelled at Prussia before turning back to Canada. His gaze softened, "Where did he touch you?"

Canada blushed heavily and looked at his feet. He mumbled something, not meeting eyes with America. America whipped around to Prussia glaring at him.

Prussia rubbed the back of his neck, smirking. "Oi, Mattie, I forgot to ask. Can I stay here for a few days?"

… …

America leaned against the upstairs bathroom door, where the bedrooms where. He knocked on the wood behind him. "You okay, Matt?" America asked through the door.

"For the last time, Alfred, I'm fine!" America opened his mouth to respond, "And before you ask Prussia didn't climb through my window to grope me! Let me brush my teeth!"

America nodded, satisfied for the time being. "Carry on getting ready!" Alfred let his mind wander, trying to avoid the black hole that was sucking in his thoughts. He had to read that folder… Ugh…

Canada opened the door up from behind America, and huffed irritably. "Look, I'm Prussia grope free, okay? Will you go to bed and leave me alone?"

America grabbed Canada's shoulders and slowly looked him over. "Mattie, if _he_ even takes one step up those stairs, yell rape, okay?" Canada sighed, annoyed, but America shook him slightly, "Okay?"

Canada blushed slightly, but said, "Fine, Alfred, fine. Just please don't guard my door all night, eh?"

America laughed and released Matthew. "No promises, 'kay? Night, Matt!" America headed toward his temporary bedroom. He pulled out his phone and sent England a quick text.

_Night Artie! ;) _(Sent 9:30)

America settled into his own bed, gently placing the vanilla folder before him on the sheets. He felt his phone vibrate and looked down excitedly at England's text.

_Blooddy git! It's two in the morning here! _(Sent 9:36)

America frowned slightly, but then smiled when a second text buzzed up on screen.

_But good night. _(Sent 9:39)

America chuckled then hooked up his phone to the charger then faced the vanilla folder. He had been putting this off for days, but he had to read it. Again, he felt fear prick at his stomach, but Alfred was a hero and began to read.

… …

Canada had just been having the most wonderful dream. He had been in a big ice rink, and he had the puck and was gliding smoothly over the ice. From the sidelines, Prussia and France danced a cheer for Canada. Canada blushed slightly when he noticed they were both wearing ridiculously short skirts and low cut tops.

Canada approached the goal, guarded by America. Canada swung back his hockey stick, the crowds let out a cheer of anticipation. Canada swung the stick forward; the puck sailed through the air!

Was it going to make it! Oh it-

"OHMYGOLLY! The poor cows!" A voice screeched.

Canada shot straight out of bed, letting out a muffled, "Score for the cows!" Before he looked around confused.

"What the maple…?" Canada muttered. He marched over to the wall and pounded on it. America was next-door, making a ton of racket. "Oi! Alfred! Stop complaining about the cows and let me score!"

"But Matt-" Came the muffled response.

Matthew pounded on the wall again. "Cows can wait for morning!" He marched back to bed and jumped into the warm covers. He shut his eyes and hoped he could go back to that dream…

Canada ended up dreaming about cows in cheerleader outfits, singing about vanilla folders. Stupid America.

… **Romano …**

Sometimes Romano wondered why he put up with Spain and Italy. On their own, Romano could manage them with few curses and insults. Well… few in his standards. But put them under the same roof…?

"Ve! _Fratello_ you'll never believe what America did the other day! He put on this scary movie and then-"

"Lovi! Let me rub your shoulders!"

"- And the door ended up leading into the same building! Ve! So then they tried to go up these stairs but it ended in-"

"Lovi, Pigro ate your cookies! Let me rub your shoulders!"

"- So then they approached the girl and her face went like-"

"Lovi! Tomate is eating the couch! Let me rub your shoulders!"

Needless to say, Romano wasn't having the best of times. Spain and Italy on the other hand were having the time of their lives. Finally, Romano came up with a plan to get rid of at least one of them. More specifically, Spain.

Italy was outside playing with the dogs, and Spain was making 'party drinks.' Romano casually walked into the room, whistling. Spain turned his head and smiled warmly. "Lovi!"

Romano smiled back and scooted closer to the nation. He wrapped his arms around Spain's shoulder and nuzzled into the back of Spain's neck. Instantly, Spain melted into Romano's hug.

Romano let himself get distracted by Spain. What the hell shampoo did he use? His hair smelled so good… Romano focused his mind. No, he needed to talk to Italy. Though, he really should give Spain more hugs…

"Boss…?" Romano asked hesitantly.

"Ci, Lovi?" Spain asked dreamily.

Romano smirked. When Spain spoke like that, he would do anything for Romano. Hugs defiantly needed to be done more often…

"Can you maybe run down to the store and get me some cookies? Pigro ate mine…" Romano sighed sadly.

Spain nodded quickly. "Of course, Lovino! I'll still be able to buy some if I go right now!" He paused, then suddenly bent his knees and turned around, straightening and catching Romano in his arms.

Spain smiled down at Romano, winking. Romano felt his cheeks catch fire, and he gazed dumbly back at Spain. It only lasted a moment though, because Romano shoved off Spain and crossed his arms, looking away.

"Bastardo…" Romano said hotly, "The stores will close. Get me my damn cookies."

Spain laughed warmly and headed toward the front door, brushing shoulders with Romano. Romano made sure he didn't turn around till he heard the door shut, and when he did, he let out a sigh. Damn Tomato bastard always made him feel so flustered…

Romano shook his head and headed toward the back yard where Italy was rolling around in the grass with Tomate and Pigro trying his eat off his ears. Romano coughed loudly, causing Italy to sit up sharply. He turned and waved happily at Romano.

"Hi, Lovino!" Italy called cheerily.

Romano snorted and sat down in one of the outdoor chairs. "Hi, again, Feliciano." He crossed his arms and leaned back into the chair. "You know our birthday is in two days, right?"

Italy laughed. "How could I forget, _fratello_? The day we unified!" Italy stood up and pranced over to Romano then sat down in front of him.

Romano nodded stiffly. "Yeah. And when we unified, we agreed to talk on all matters, right?"

Italy nodded. "Yep! On trades, and girls and-"

Romano growled. "Shut up. Yes. So what are we going to do about America?"

Italy's smile fell slightly. "Is there something wrong with America?" He looked down at his hands, "Because I think Germany is mad at me because I made friends with America…"

Romano tried to stop the smile that spread across his face. No. Way. Not only are they trading with a super power, but the Potato Bastard is leaving Feliciano alone! Romano did a little happy wiggle in his seat before returning to seriousness.

"His boss lady called our boss, and she wants more trades with us." Romano continued, skipping over the fact how beaten up Italy was over Germany.

Italy brightened. "Ve! Really? We're saying yes, right?" Romano nodded, smirking.

"America is really nice! He even acts like a big baby and he's really fun to spend the night with! First I made him dinner-"

Romano felt a flutter of inner panic for his younger brother. Oh god, was America going to try and-

Romano paid attention to what Italy was saying. Best not to assume... "- he had this picture of him and England and they looked so cute together! England kinda' acts like you, _fratello_! He pretends like he doesn't like it when America hugs him, even though he does! Just like you, Lovi!" Italy laughed.

An excited 'eep' came from behind the brothers, and both of them whipped around to find Spain, holding a bag of cookies, looking at Romano lovingly. "You like my hugs, Lovi!"

Romano sank down into his chair, blushing. Damn it, Italy…

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!<strong>

**Hiya! I did a longer chapter. ^3^ We should be up to 20,000 words! *Happy dance* **

**Teehee, Prussia. We loveee you~ And Canadia! X3**

**Ever see what happens to cows? Watch Food Inc. Crazy. Shiz. I am now a vegitarian. 0-0 Offically half way down on the first planning page! ^3^ We should see Alicia and Chez next chapter. Plus... major plot stuff next chapter. Who's excited?**

**Spamano~ I love you. *Bow bow* If I make a sequel, which I'm planning on, there will be more! But right now it's just plot bunnies... Hop...**

**Oh! Should I do a birthday scene? *Puzzled* The Italy's brithday's? Ja? No?**

**Anyways, thanks for the new stalks/favorites. :D**

**And we're up to thirty+ reviews! *Excited face***

**So, thanks **The Animanga Girl**, **Moelolo**, **GEMfaerie **and **Invader Lye** for getting me there last chapter! You guys get peanut butter cups! *Showers***

**Please do review. :D**


	11. The Plot Twist with Hamburgers

America stood anxiously outside Alicia's door, tapping his fingers against the damned folder he had received. He shifted on his feet, gazing down at his watch before up at Guard A.

"Dude, I have to go to a party for, like, my best friend. He's currently in Spain and I need to get there as soon as possible to plan the party." America whined, gesturing at the door.

Guard A shrugged. "I missed my little girl's birthday party."

Guard B snickered. "That's because your wife wouldn't let you come in the house, so you came here to guard."

America frowned. "Dude, your wife sounds like a bitch. How old's your kid?"

Guard A smiled faintly, "She just turned seven." He looked like the picture of fatherly pride as he opened the door for America.

America nodded his thanks and stepped inside Alicia's office, momentarily shocked by the temperature. It was freezing in Alicia's office, the only warmth coming from the windows letting in sunlight onto Alicia's desk. The guard, Chez, stood behind her, wearing nothing more than a thin T-shirt. He didn't even appear to be chilly.

Alicia was wearing a sweatshirt, sitting behind her desk and reading something on her computer, eye's flicking up momentarily at America. "America." She greeted coldly. "Read the folder, correct?"

America shrugged and slipped into the seat in front of Alicia's desk. He had read the folder. Twice. The folder had been about slaughter houses, possible dieses coming from the slaughter houses and even pesticides on corn. The folder listed out the mistreatment of the cows, pigs and chickens, and how it could possible affect the meat. It had chilling pictures of bloated looking cows and hamburgers.

The folder had gone on from there outlining the big corn companies and how they bullied and threatened the farmers and put trade marks on seeds of soy and corn. They were able to, quote, 'Put a trademark on life.' America had been sickened by the information in the folder and hadn't eaten any of Canada's pancakes. God knows what were in them…

Alicia nodded, apparently having caught sight of America's shrug while reading. "As you know, the overall condition of our food is crap. As I'm sure you're aware, American's are fat and bloated, mainly because we push this unhealthy food on them. It's less expensive to get a cheese burger from Mc. Doodle's than but some fruit…"

America nodded, feeling his stomach gurgle unhappily. "Yeah. But what could you possibly do to fix that, Alicia?" He asked coldly. America had to remain calm, not draw out the situation and just get to Spain as quickly as possible. Plus, this room was cold as hell.

Alicia shut her computer with a snap and gazed at America for the moment. "The answer to stopping all this is difficult. American's are used to their easy lifestyle with food. So, I'm asking you. What do you think I should do? What would you be angry about I shut down?"

America rubbed his eyes. Tricky question. He loved Mc. Doodle's… But once you know what's in those yummy, greasy hamburgers, you weren't so keen to eat them. America coughed. "Well, I'd be angry unless I knew what was in the hamburgers and why things were bein' shut down…"

Alicia nodded. "So awareness?"

America blinked, bewildered. Alicia had summed up that run on sentence into one word. She was a clever bitch. "Yes. Lots of it. On the T.V., too. None of that billboard crap cuz' no one _really_ reads those."

Alicia nodded. "Yeah, true."

America thought for a few more moments, before smiling suddenly. "I'd also want to feel like I was the one deciding to shut down Mc. Doodles. Not the government, no, but me."

Alicia clicked her tongue then stood up, pacing absently. "I see. Well, the food companies have great lawyers and even strong ties here in the White House. The people would need strong cases and better lawyers…"

America coughed, "And even if we did all…" He waved his hand, "This, what would I… I mean… People eat? If they work on shutting down big businesses of food-"

Alicia paced faster. "I've been reading online and having case workers out and about. Local slaughter houses with good morals, with support from us, could pop up around the Midwest. It used to be that way before the big food companies…"

America nodded. "Sounds good." He smiled faintly, "So… Can I go? No… No more folders, right?"

Alicia snorted and looked at America scornfully. "No. Next meeting will require me to explain things out loud. When are you next available? Because I have-"

America hopped up out of his chair and saluted to Alicia. "I'll call you, but I have to get to Spain!" He laughed and bounded out of the room, leaving poor Chez to calm down Alicia.

… **Chester …**

Chester was eighteen and completely lost on what to do with his life. He wasn't school smart enough to go onto college, and he wasn't good enough at sports to get a scholarship. Currently, Chester was staying with his older brother, Ian, and his wife.

Chester was looking through the paper, trying to find a good job, when Ian sat down next to him, wringing his hands nervously. "Hey, bro."

Chester looked up from the paper, tilting his head. "Yeahs?"

Ian coughed. "So, you need a job and a place to stay, right?"

Chester rolled his eyes. "Yeahs. I've only been like, looking for the past three months. Why?"

Ian coughed. "I… Uh… kinda' know this club army thing that can hook you up. But it's a bit like boot camp, and… Uh well I can set up a meeting."

Chester had been a bit suspicious. A boot camp? It wasn't like he hadn't gone to one before but… Chester had agreed, albeit reluctantly.

And now, Chester was waiting in this creepy building with three other guys roughly his age. Chester shifted nervously, glancing around. Apparently, this was a privately owned building with guards outside the gates. They wouldn't let you in unless you had some sort of badge… Luckily, Ian who had driven Chester, had flashed the guard his badge and they had driven through just fine.

The land the building was on, at one point, must have been a college or something, because the place had huge grounds and a even bigger boot camp like obstacle course in the back. Chester had been amazed, and baffled when he saw uniformed men yelling at the people doing the obstacle course.

Chester looked around the room he was waiting in. The room wasn't decorated, and only had five chairs to sit and wait. Chester wasn't even really sure what he was waiting _for_, but he guessed it had something to do with the door labeled 'Commander.'

Chester nearly jumped out of his skin when the door suddenly opened and a man stepped out. He looked down at a small sheet of paper then called out, "Adams, Chester?"

Chester stood up sharply and trotted doggedly over to the man. "M-me, sir." The man smiled warmly and gestured for Chester to enter the room.

Chester sat down stiffly in a chair and watched the man sit down behind the desk in front of him. The man smiled. "You can call me Commander Bob."

Chester nodded.

Bob hummed and looked down at the sheet of paper. "So, just got out of high school, eh? And your brother told you about us…?"

Chester nodded again. "Said you gave out places to stay."

Bob nodded. "We do. The organization we run is called the Vixen Hairs, or VH. We are… a select group of people. We work for the president, and are a independent mini army, of sorts."

Chester tilted his head. "You work for the president? Alicia Rosery?"

Bob smirked, "Yep. She funded this whole program. It's still under wraps, so if you let anything spill, you'll be guarded to make sure you don't leak any information." Chester's eyes widened, and Bob quickly added, "This would only be for a short time, until we came out in public…"

Chester frowned but nodded, interested. Bob continued, "If you decide to join, you'll be indicted as part of the army. You will serve as part of the army, and you might be stationed somewhere else."

Chester coughed, looking amazed. "You have more places like these?"

Bob chuckled. "Yep. They're spread around the country, mainly in small towns. This is the biggest base we have. The others are usually just a small meeting hut and big obstacle course. The prez started a fund for buying a bigger place. She and Chez poured into in the most, while us other guys helped too. We still have to pay this place off, but we own it now."

Chester gazed around the room, appreciating it with new eyes. Bob leaned back in his chair, smiling. "This place is kind of like a boot camp. You get trained in military strategies, guns and just physical stuff. You can drop out any time, but again, you'll be guarded."

Chester narrowed his eyes. "When will this be released to the public…? I don't want to be a part of some fake, crazy army."

Bob laughed heartily and took out a picture from a desk drawer. It was picture of him, shaking hands with…

"That… That can't be!" Chester floundered.

"It is. That's bme shakin' hands with Miss President." Bob put the picture away and inspected Chester. "So… You'll be given a room and we can set you up with a job in the city."

Chester ran a hand through his hair and smiled, shakily. "Can… I think about it?"

Bob laughed and nodded. "Of course! It's a lot to take in, especially in one day. But, if need to talk to me…" He slid a small badge across the table, "You just show those ol' guards by the gate this badge and tell them you want to talk to Bobby."

Chester hesitantly picked up the badge. It was a petty shield with a rabbit hiding behind it, fox tail sticking out from the other side of the shield. "I… think I might, Bob…"

**... Germany …**

Germany reread the invitation over again for the fourth time. He had received the invitation a few days ago, and he was still deciding whether or not to attend.

The card was simple, white with a bowl of pasta in the bottom corner. In the middle, it read, '_March 17__th__ is Italy's and Romano's birthday. Spain is throwing a surprise party at his house! Be there by seven p.m. and bring snacks!_' Followed by directions to Spain's house.

Germany felt torn. He always hated parties, and tended to be a wall flower when it came down to it. Germany would either end up driving drunken Prussia or Italy home, or get drunk himself and rant the entire night. And, if it involved the Bad Touch Trio, Germany was sure there was going to be drinks.

On the other hand, it was _Italy_. Germany couldn't wimp out on Italy's birthday just because he didn't want to drive some drunk lunatic home. Plus, Germany could _see_ Italy's face if he didn't show up.

Germany tapped his fingers nervously on the desk. He needed to ask someone about this but… Who? Germany still wasn't big on friends, so if he couldn't call Italy…

Germany picked up his phone and dialed Japan's number. It rang exactly two times before the island nation picked up.

"_Hello, Germany-san._" Japan greeted.

Germany smiled thinly. "Hello, Japan. Are you going to Italy's party tomorrow?"

Japan paused for a moment on the other end, before speaking slowly. "_I… think so. I'll feel like a very bad friend if I don't go to Fel_-" Japan coughed harshly, "_Italy-san's party. I'm buying him a pasta pot, and Romano-san some doggy chew toys._"

Germany frowned. "Why are you getting Romano doggy toys?"

"_He bought two dogs with Spain-san._" Japan explained.

Germany felt a blush come to his cheeks when he asked his next question, "You think I should go to Italy's party? I mean, we haven't been on the best speaking terms lately…"

Japan replied almost instantly, "_I think you should go._"

Germany blinked at Japan's speed in replying. "Uh… Ja. I guess I will go…"

"_I'm sorry, Germany-san, but I'm cooking for someone right now. You can call later, maybe and…_"

"Oh, no, Japan it's fine. I have… work to do anyways._ Auf Wiedersehen_."

"_Bye, Germany-san._" Japan hung up.

Germany leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. Now that he decided he was going, what was he going to get Italy…? Germany sighed and shook his head. Yet another reason why he hated parties; last minute gift shopping.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing except the four pages of plot. ^3^<strong>

**I was way to lazy to edit this, so go evolve into editing monsters for me, ja?**

**Haha, party scene is a go. Next chapter will be a fun, lighthearted chapter, with lots of pairings. XD**

**Speaking of next chapter, I'm problably not going to update tomorrow. I have a dance to go to. It's my first one ever! *Dances* So, sorry about that. But next chapter will be really long, hopefully.**

**Food Inc. quote was used up there. Just so you know and no one suuuues me. Not that they will, right, Mc. Doodles?**

**And Chester and Bob will not come up again. They were in there to introduce plot twist. Thank them kindly. XD**

**Anyways, thanks for the stalks/favorites! They make me warm and fuzz like a pair of socks. ^^**

**Thanks **Invader Lye**, **The Animanga Girl**, **Yo**,** Moelolo**, **GEMfaerie **and **an anonymous reviewer with no name** for you reviews! You guys get... uhm... peanut butter for your reviews! :D Up to forty reviews! *Yay***

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	12. Bit of an Extra: The Party

… **Romano …**

Romano knew something was up. It had started this morning, when Spain hadn't even mentioned Romano's birthday. No special breakfast, or stupid birthday idea, Spain had just said good morning and went to wake Italy.

Romano later noticed that Spain kept suggesting that they should go out for awhile. And the bastard wouldn't shut up about leaving until Romano agreed and they dragged Italy and the two dogs out to get gelato.

Romano huffed and tugged halfheartedly at Italy's shirt collar. "Come on, Feli. Let's go home. Spa- Antonio has been dragging us around town all day and I want to go home."

Italy batted away Romano and continued to coo over a baby in a stroller. "But Lovino! Look at the baby! He's so cute! Ve!" Romano huffed again and crossed his arms.

Spain hung back holding the dogs' leashes, glancing at his watch and whistling. Romano felt irritation heat up his face. The damn bastards better not have forgotten his birthday. Romano marched over, poking Spain angrily in the chest.

"Bastard." Romano hissed, hands on hips.

Spain raised an eyebrow. "Lovi, what did I do?"

Romano felt his face heat up a little more. He wasn't just going to _tell_ Spain why he was angry. Hell no. If the bastard was going to forget his birthday, Romano would just let Spain figure it out on his own.

"Bastard." Romano repeated, and then caught sight of Italy in the background. "Feli! Put the baby down! He isn't yours!"

Italy had picked up the baby in the stroller, and was bobbing him up and down. "But Lovinoooo! The baby's mother isn't even around and I just want to hold the _bambino_! Look-" Romano stormed over and took the baby and placed the baby back down in the stroller.

Romano dragged Italy away, letting out random curses. "_Culo_! You can't just pick up random babies! The mothers sense when you disrupt their children!"

Italy batted off Romano again and sniffled. "B-but Romano!" He sniffed again.

Romano felt panic well up in his chest. He didn't want Italy to cry! Not in public. Not again. Romano's brain scrabbled for a distraction for Italy. "You want to go home and make pasta?" Romano finally managed.

Italy instantly perked. "Ve! Of course, Lovino!" Italy began to skip off, singing about pasta.

Romano followed after Italy, not checking to see if Spain was following. The bastard wanted to forget Romano's birthday, fine, but don't expect to tag along. Romano grabbed onto Italy, tugging him back. "Feli, the house is back this way!"

Italy laughed. "Spain looks the same everywhere you go! Just lots of buildings to confuse me!"

Romano glared at Italy, tugging him through an alley way shortcut. "Rome isn't much different…"

Italy shook his head. "We have ruins!" Italy paused and looked around, "Where's Spaina? Did he get lost? Oh no! Romano we have to go back and look for him what is Russia finds him and they he does that creepy 'kolkol' thingy and eats Spain and then you'll be sad and-"

Romano tugged back Italy and slowed down. They were nearing Spain's house and Romano was growing tired of walking fast. "Why would Russia be here?" He sighed, "Besides, I wouldn't care if the vodka bastard found Spain."

Italy frowned and examined Romano for a second. Italy wrapped an arm around Romano and pulled him close. "Oh, _fratello_! Are you upset Spain forgot our birthday?"

Romano instantly blushed and pushed away Italy, growling. "O-of course not!" Romano cursed himself internally for letting his voice waver. "I-I'm just upset he… Didn't… wake me up earlier!"

Italy smiled knowingly at Romano. "Ve! Sure." He opened up the small gate in front of Spain's house and skipped up to the front door.

Romano felt himself grow redder, "It's true!" He called after Italy, "The damn bastard never wakes me up early enough…" Romano muttered and followed Italy up to the front door and pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

Italy tugged Romano inside, snorting. "But you hate getting up early!"

Romano shook Italy off. "I do but- why the hell is it so fucking dark in here?" Romano marched into the kitchen, intent on turning on ever light in the damn house when…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY ITALY AND ROMANO!"

Romano yelped and jumped back, nearly running away. Italy, on the other hand, was positively ecstatic. Romano looked around the kitchen to see at least fifteen other nations crowded around, smiling and holding gifts.

Romano, while taking in all this, was suddenly tackled from behind in a hug. "Lovi! You left me! And after I spent all day making sure I didn't tell you about your party you make me miss it!" Spain cried into Romano's ear.

Usually, Romano would've kneed Spain for even attempting to hug him in public, but Romano was too happy knowing Spain hadn't forgotten his birthday to care.

… **Germany …**

Germany cursed himself for the hundredth time that night. He was late for Italy's surprise party. Germany checked his watch.

8:35

No, it had been a surprise over an hour ago. The party was probably in full swing by now.

Germany glanced down at the directions on the invitation again. He wished faintly in the back of his mind he could use a GPS. Germany pulled up to Spain's house and felt nervous. He grabbed his gift for Italy and turned off his car and slowly stepped out.

Germany winced as he heard the music blasting out from the house's open windows, promising a migraine. Germany opened the small gate and slowly walked over to the front door and rung the doorbell. Maybe no one would hear him knock and Germany could avoid having to go in…

A very flustered Austria opened the door, adjusting his glasses and looking down at a list. "Germany. Almost thought you wouldn't make it. You're not supposed to drink."

Germany frowned. "What? Why can't I drink?"

Austria rubbed his head, growling slightly. "Well, considering that most of the people at this party are going to get wasted, I figured you could help me get them into beds when the party's over." He sounded impatient and irritated.

Germany nodded obediently. "I…" He held out his gift to Austria. "For Italy." Austria took the present and stood aside to let Germany in. Germany frowned slightly at Austria, "Are you okay? You…"

Austria pushed Germany further into the house, huffing. "Fine. Go say hi to Italy. He's been bugging me about you since the party started."

Germany nodded and turned to face the monster of which this party was. Most of the furniture had been moved to the side of the room, only two tables holding the booze and snacks were left in the middle of the room. The music was undoubtedly produced by America, because Lady GaGa was whining from the stereo, and it was someone's bright idea to dim the lights. The party area consisted of the kitchen, living room and meandered out into the backyard.

Germany headed toward the backyard, where most of the people were concentrated. Germany gazed at the people he passed, trying to identify Italy's face. He pushed by the crowd and frowned what he saw happening in the back yard.

Someone had arranged a small table with two chairs facing each other on either end. France sat in one chair, facing a cocky Prussia. Italy was holding two beers, looking at each nation questioningly. Finally, Italy placed the beers down.

"I bet," Italy said quickly, slurring his words, "That Prussia will win. And if he doesn't, I'll kiss France!"

This got an excited cheer from the surrounding nations. Germany felt his face heat up. Surely, Italy couldn't be this drunk so early.

France let out a snicker, "I accept this challenge! But, _l'Italie_, you 'ave not seen me drink when it involves _embrassant_." He pulled Italy closer and whispered something into Italy's ear, something that made Italy laugh nervously and blush.

Italy stood raised his hand, "Ready? Set?" There was a moment of tense silence, "Drink!" Italy slammed his hand down on the table, and the crowd let out a cheer.

Germany pushed by the crowd and finally managed to get close to Italy. He pulled Italy a little away from the drinking men and face Italy. "_Italy_!" Germany hissed, "What are you doing? Why-"

Italy hugged Germany, letting out a happy squeal. "Ludwig! You came! Ve! I thought you hated me!" Italy murmured something in Italian that Germany didn't catch.

Germany's face heated up and he held Italy at arm's length. "Italy, you're very, very drunk. You need to-"

"Hohonhonhon! I 'ave finished the beer first!" France said in a sing song voice, "But, I see that Germany 'as beaten me to the prize!"

Prussia slammed his empty cup onto the table. "You dirty cheater! _Sie verschüttete die Hälfte davon auf Ihrer Bluse_!" Prussia turned to Germany and waved a greeting, "West! You decided to join our little party! Feli! Get your ass over here and smooch Frenchie over here!"

Italy shook his head and glanced at Germany. "But I don't want to do what France said we have to do! Ve!" Italy hugged Germany again, "Germany! Save me!"

Germany didn't like how the whole crowd's attention was focused on him, especially France's glare. "Oui, Germany, I believe you did _non_ drink for Italy's kiss."

Germany was about to throw something at France when Austria waltzed out into the backyard, glaring daggers at France. "What's this about Italy's kiss? I believed we came to an agreement, France." Austria marched over, hands on hips, "Fully sober consent. None of this drunken tomfoolery."

France winked slyly at Prussia, "Oh come now. I bet I could untwist those panties, if you give me your consent." He hooked Austria around the waist and brought him closer, Austria struggling and trying to slap France.

Prussia, almost casually, kicked France in-between the legs under the table, frowning. France immediately released Austria and fell backwards in his chair, moaning. Austria coughed and backed away, blushing furiously. Austria turned sharply to the crowd and huffed. "What are you looking at? Go back to partying!" He marched off, Prussia trailing after him.

Germany rubbed the migraine stabbing him in the temples and turning to look at Italy. Italy laughed and leaned against Germany, humming. "Where have you been Germany?" He asked dreamily, "With the penguins?"

Germany sighed heavily and began to lead Italy to his room, muttering to himself in German. God knows what would have happened is Germany hadn't arrived when he did. Italy could be in a closet with France… No. Germany had saved Italy from that fate.

Germany pushed Italy up the stairs toward when Germany knew a guest bedroom was. Italy looked back at Germany and frowned slightly. "Don't leave again, Holy Rome." Italy squinted, "Germany. Ludwig, you'll never call!" Italy pulled Germany into his guest bedroom, "Please don't go… Germany…"

Germany huffed and sat Italy down on the bed and took Italy's shoes off. "Fine, I'll stay in the room." _Just please stop saying my name like that…_

Italy shrugged his shirt off and snuggled down into the bed. "Germany… Do you hate me? Because of America…?"

Germany blinked, surprised. "Nein. I… Couldn't hate you Italy…" He said softly, looking away from Italy's face.

Italy let out a relived sigh. "That's… so good…" His eyes fluttered close, "Because… I… I love…" He fell asleep, leaving the heavy statement unfinished.

… **Austria …**

Austria was not having fun. He thought parties were supposed to _be_ fun, but Italy's and Romano's party was not going to leave Austria with fond memories of good times. Austria had been roped into organizing the damn party, he was stuck making sure no raped anybody at the damned party, and he was almost sure he was going to be the one cleaning up the damn party.

Austria was trying to run around the living room, making sure people got rooms and were not passed out where they could be easily written on. But Prussia was tagging along, making Austria feel like he was being judged as he sent happy couples away upstairs.

Austria felt the back of his neck prickle and he swung around to face Prussia, who had been staring him down. "Do you want something?" Austria asked testily.

Prussia smiled slyly down at Austria. "Why don't you have a drink and relax. You seem really stressed."

Austria snorted and crossed his arms. "And what will happen, hm? You'll go around and make sure nothing catches fire?"

Prussia shrugged, "If it mean you'll get that damned knot out of your panties-"

Austria let out a frustrated hiss, "What is everybody's fascination with my underwear? And I wear boxers, not panties! Why does everybody assume that I wear panties?" Austria let out some pent up tension out on Prussia, "And why are you even here? Do you even talk to Italy?"

Prussia snorted. "No, but I talk to Spain who talks to Romano. It's the bro code; your guyfriend's throwing a party for his lover, you have to attend. Why are _you_ here?" He took a step closer, "I sure as hell don't see you talking to Italy either."

Austria gritted his teeth, "I planned the party. Everything you see here was the result of me."

Prussia laughed, "I'm pretty sure Spain had something to do with planning the party. It is his house! But maybe you bought the house for him…"

Austria didn't have time for this. Not for Prussia. He turned tightly and assessed the living room. All seemed well except… Austria walked quickly over to the corner of the room, feeling a slight blush come onto his cheeks.

Spain had Romano trapped against the corner. Spain was whispering into Romano's ear in Spanish, twirling Lovino's curl around his finger. Romano was red faced, letting out little mewls of pleasure and the occasionally 'Bastard.'

Austria awkwardly tapped Spain on the shoulder, coughing loudly. Spain whipped around and smiled easily. "Hola, Austria. How's the _fiesta_ going?"

Austria was about to answer, but Prussia butt in. "It's goin' great. But, as much as we love seeing you two…" He waved his hand at Spain and Romano, "We'd love if you'd get a room, ja?"

Spain laughed and began to lead Romano upstairs. "Haha, we understand! Sorry, _amigos_!"

Austria ran his hands through his hair and sighed, glancing at Prussia. "Some people…"

Prussia laughed, putting his hands behind his head. "Yep. Have no idea of when to cut loose, right Rodey?"

Austria nodded, "Yeah th- Hey! First off, reframe from using that stupid nickname you insist on calling me! Second, I can let loose! Just not when people are drunk and running around!"

Prussia snorted. "I doubt that. You couldn't cut loose if someone handed you a knife. You need to get those _boxers_ out of a twist, Rodey."

Austria gritted his teeth and stepped closer to Prussia. "Least I can go five seconds without being an egotistical, arrogant brat."

Prussia laughed, but took a step back. "Yeah, but one day you're going to die from a heart attack because you bottle up your emotions. One day your heart just can't take anymore and _pop_!"

Austria pushed Prussia back, hissing. "You stupid-" He stopped mid rant, staring at Prussia. When Austria had pushed him, he had clutched his stomach like Austria had _punched_ him. "D-did I hurt you?"

Prussia shook his head sharply, "Just touched a bruise…" Prussia wheezed.

Austria crossed his arms and frowned. "Gilbert, what happened? Why are you suddenly bruised?" Austria pushed away the feelings of concern, justifying them in his mind. Another nation was hurt, why shouldn't Austria be concerned?

Prussia smirked. "You called me Gilbert."

Austria narrowed his eyes. "Changing the subject." He stepped closer, hand reaching out slightly, "What…?"

Suddenly, cheers erupted from the backyard. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Austria whipped around. "Hell no!"

… **America …**

America and China circled each other, glaring. America was, obviously, drunk. China… well, America really didn't _know_. But China couldn't be fighting just for the sake of fighting… Could he?

China cracked his knuckles, eyeing America. "You stupid, trade stabbing hamburger head, aru! I should've done you in years ago!"

America laughed. "Like ya' could've! The only thing you're good at is making _me _cheap plastic _shit_!"

China hissed. "Take that back, aru!"

America smirked, "Is your hair shorter, _aru_?"

China ran at America, landing a solid punch on America's jaw. America pushed China back, kicking him in the knee. China darted left and jabbed America in the side, leaving himself open for America to smack down hard on China's shoulder and back.

China yelped and tackled America to the ground, pounding away anywhere he could. America bellowed and grabbed a handful of China's hair, pulling the nation back and managing to flip himself on top. America rained blows at China's face, cursing.

America felt someone drag him back, and squirmed. No, he wanted to fight. If China couldn't see America had no other choice then-

"Bloody git! What are you doing?" A British accent filled America's ears.

America fell limp and allowed himself to be dragged to his feet, facing China who was being restrained by Russia. Austria stood between the two, glaring. "Who started all of this?"

America looked at his feet, avoiding Austria's gaze. China, however, was quick to reply. "Well, aru, he made fun of my accent. Such a hero, right, aru?"

America flinched and shook off whoever was holding him. "I'm leaving. Tell Italy I'm sorry I had to leave." He turned stiffly and left, England following.

America stormed out the front door and down the street to where all the party goers' cars were hidden. England walked next to America, strangely quiet after what had happened. America unlocked his car and hopped in, slamming the car door. England slipped into the passenger's side.

"Alfred," England began, "You shouldn't…"

America slammed his hands into the steering wheel. "I know! I know, Iggy. But… I wish he would understand. I don't have a choice. I… Just don't." America felt tears prickle at the back of his eyes. Damn it, booze always made him emotional.

England rested his hand on America's, frowning. "I know you don't, Alfie."

America shook his head slightly. "If China wants to see a hero, I'll give him a hero." America said softly. He leaned over and rested his head on England's shoulder. "I love you, Artie."

"Don't do anything stupid, Alfred." England said testily. "I love you too." He said softly.

… **The Morning After, Italy …**

Italy woke up to a pounding headache and a horrible taste in his mouth. Italy staggered out of bed and to the bathroom, turning on the shower and brushing his teeth vigorously. While washing, Italy tried to pick apart the craziness that was last night.

The last memory Italy remembered clearly was asking Austria if Germany was here. Austria shook his head, and Italy slurped down some beer. The next thing he remembered was something about France and a tutu, and then Italy was hugging Germany.

Italy shut the water off and let out a frustrated sigh. He wished he hadn't drunk so much, so he could remember what he _did_ with Germany, if anything. Italy racked his brain, but came up with nothing that suggested Germany had done anything more than take off Italy's shoes. Italy went about his morning routine of brushing his hair, getting dressed and so on, and then wandered downstairs.

Italy frowned when he saw the state Spain's house was in. It had empty glasses and chips everywhere, and smelled strongly of vodka and vomit. Italy inched his way towards the kitchen, stepping around suspicious puddles, and saw Romano sitting up on the counter, drinking a cup of coffee.

Romano looked quite disheveled and tired. His hair was messy and still wet from his shower, and he had one of his 'sick' sweatshirts on; otherwise known as a giant sweatshirt. Romano must be really hung over.

Italy walked over and smiled at Romano. "Good morning _fr_-"

Romano hissed. "Shh! Why are you so loud? My headache is killing me, so shut up. The Advil's over there." Romano pointed.

Italy skipped over and popped two pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry. "Where's Spain?"

Romano yawned and took another sip of his coffee. "Walking the dogs and getting a maid service for this shit hole of a house." He said grumpily.

Italy casually poured himself a cup of coffee, glancing up at Romano. Italy wondered why Romano looked so tired. Even at his worst drinking escapades, Romano never looked _this_ bad.

"How'd you sleep, _fratello_?" Italy asked innocently, blinking.

Romano instantly stiffened. "What do you mean by that, bastard!" Romano barked. Italy winced. Romano wasn't the only one with a headache…

"Y-you just look really tired…" Italy mumbled.

Romano relaxed slightly. "I see. Oh, in case you were wondering, the Potato bastard showed up."

Italy perked eagerly. "Ve! He did! Oh-"

Romano clutched his head. "Shut up! He left about twenty minutes after he got here. He came to drop off his gift then leave. Don't read too much into it."

Italy deflated, staring sadly at his cup of coffee. "Oh. He… just came to drop by his present. Of course," Italy laughed halfheartedly, "Anyways, Lovino, why were you moaning so much last night?" He smirked at his brother.

Romano jumped off the counter. "Bastard!"

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing except plot. :D<strong>

**ANNNDDD we have the party scene. It's a bit of an extra, but so fun to write. XD It's ten Word pages long... :'D Amazing. It's also full of grammar errors, so I'm sorry. But ten pages of text hurts my brain and I don't want to edit... *Sob***

**Anyways, any of you wondering what America's comment to China was about his hair? Check out Moelolo's Fanfiction Haircut! XD It will explain all~**

**Ever heard of Austria x Prussia? No? Well it's an awesome pairing. ;)**

**Anyways, thank you to all the people who fill up my in-box with their stalks/favorites! ^^**

**Thanks **The Animanga Girl**, **Moelolo**, **Pop-goes-the-Prussia**, **Invader Lye**,** Trumpet-Geek **and **GEMfaerie** for your awesome reviews! You all get... *Dun* Cinnamon buns! *Yay* I'm working on the cupcakes. *Huff***

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	13. Vixen Hairs

… **America …**

America was sitting outside Alicia's office, humming. Someone had set up two chairs and a small table outside Alicia's door, probably due to complaints of waiting while standing. America checked his watch and sighed. "What could she possibly need to see me for a week after the last meeting?"

Guard A shrugged halfheartedly and glanced over at the guard on the other side of Alicia's door. Guard B had been replaced with Guard C, a jittery skinny guy with a shock of blonde messy hair. Guard C shrugged- or maybe that was a twitch- and took a sip from his thermos he held.

America stared pointedly at the thermos, and then up at Guard C. "Is that coffee? I thought the trade with Brazil for that stuff had been shut off."

Guard C jumped. "Gah- I-I- This isn't- ngh- cof-ffee! Thi-s is- uh-uh- redbull! P-please don't- Jesus!- report m-me!"

America raised an eyebrow and looked over at Guard A. "Is this guy for real?"

Guard A shrugged and gestured toward the door. "Ms. Rosery will see you now."

America stood and opened the door, wincing at the frigid temperature beyond. Alicia glanced up at America and sighed, shutting her laptop and standing. America shut the door and sat down in front of Alicia's desk, feeling like a kid who was facing his school principle.

Alicia paced for a minute, gathering her thoughts. Finally, she faced America and crossed her arms. "Tell me the truth, have presidents done illegal things?"

America's face deadpanned. This wasn't going to be a fun, quick meeting. "What do you mean?"

Alicia let out a frustrated sigh and began to pace again. "What do you think I mean? Broken the law, bent the rules, smudged the agreement does it matter? Have they done things that haven't been entirely on one side of the law?"

America rubbed his eyes. "What did you do? If you slept with a secretary-"

"Started a secret army." Alicia said bluntly.

America tilted his head to one side. "I- uh… You started a secret army?"

Alicia shrugged modestly, "Funded it, really. A friend of mine actually started it. They started recruiting and finding locations to train at."

America leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh. "Explain this to me. What exactly did you 'fund?'"

Alicia slowed her pacing, picking her words carefully. "It began in college. It was just a small club for people who wanted to compete in obstacle courses and learn a bit about military on the side of their major. I headed this, my military information coming from a friend.

"When I finished up college and became a lawyer, my friend took over this little project. He started keeping lists of who joined, and we started a fund to buy a bigger building for the obstacle courses. By this time, we had over a thousand members, over five hundred permanently active. Another person started another one of these clubs further out west, also gaining members quickly.

"Since we'd grown so fast, my friend decided we needed a name and symbol. So we came up with the name Vixen Hairs, and a small badge. Chez, show him yours." Alicia commanded.

Chez stepped forward and tugged off a necklace and handed it to America. America gazed down at the small badge; it was a shield with a rabbit hiding behind it, with a fox tail sneaking out from the other side.

America nodded and handed it back to Chez, then frowned at Alicia. "How did no one find out? If the Vixen-"

"It's VH for short." Alicia cut in briskly.

"Uh… Right. If the VH is as big as you're makin' it out to be, how did the police not find out? Or…?"

Alicia waved her hand. "It was a bit of a secret club at first. You needed the badge to get into any of the clubs, and you had to reach a certain rank to know more about the organization. Plus, most of the clubs were started in small towns, so a lot of people were all ready in the club to let a newspaper, let's say, know."

America nodded, taking this all in. "So, you're telling me that no information at all leaked?"

Alicia snorted. "Of course not. If any reporter did catch on, a guard was assigned to make sure he didn't slip anything till… the time was right."

America snorted. "You mean till you were powerful enough to make sure no one could oppose you." He crossed his arms, "What are you suggesting we do with this secret army of yours?"

Alicia stood up again and began to pace. "Well, each state has its own police system, yeah? While the current police systems are okay, I was thinking that a country wide police system, with fifty state police leaders would be more efficient."

America rolled his eyes. "Why? The current system…"

Alicia interrupted, "Is not interconnected at all. Let's say a murder of ten people happens in City A. Does City A investigate the murder? Or the County? Or the state, because the murder was so large?"

America frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… I'm sure there are procedures for that sort of thing…"

"Yes, but wouldn't it make more sense if you had one state police leader assigning teams of investigators?" Alicia snapped impatiently.

America gritted his teeth, "One person for the entire state? Isn't that a bit much?"

"Yes, but it would be structured. A giant massacre would be handled by a leader, while a petty robbery would be handled by a person lesser down on the chain of command. It would eliminate confusion."

America paused, biting his lip. Alicia's system made sense, but would the country agree to some random army marching in and taking control of the police force…?

"How would the people react?" America asked slowly.

Alicia sat back down and sighed. "America, that's why I have meetings with you. You tell me."

America crossed his arms and let out a hissed slightly, "So, you'd set up the new police system and what else?"

"Government funding for more of these bases, and using these forces along Mexico." Alicia said.

America blinked. "Wha- Mexico? Why would we use the VH for Mexico?"

"Well, we could enforce the border for one thing and also get more troops. We'd offer green cards for joining and teach them English. It gives them a job for their families and everyone wins." Alicia smirked.

America rubbed his eyes. "I'd have to talk with Mexico, but it seems like a good idea, I guess. I'll see when he's free…"

Alicia snorted, "Try three in the afternoon. I'd also like to set up more mills."

America nodded. "Sure, sure. Are we done? I need to process-"

Alicia cut in, "Speaking of processing, how are the commercials going about the food going over…?"

America perked ever so slightly. "Good. Mc. Doodle's are being protested all over the country. People don't like the idea of eating cow like that. Pretty sure the Mc. Doodles are going to do something soon. I've heard talk of a petition about shutting down the slaughter houses and demand for more natural meat."

Alicia sighed happily. "Good, people are behind the idea. Hopefully they'll be behind this one too…" Alicia spun around once in her chair then opened a drawer in her desk. "Oh, another folder. It's about education."

America winced. "Those folders kill me. Hey, wait a sec… That's the last thingy on your list!" America yelled happily, "There was export, economy, food crime and education! We're almost done!" He fist pumped.

Alicia shrugged. "We'll see." She handed America the folder. "Have a good day."

America grabbed the folder and stood, heading towards the door.

"America!" Alicia called after him.

America turned around, frowning. "Whaaat?" He whined.

Alicia's eye twitched, but she asked in an even voice, "You're pretty close with Italy and Russia right?"

America furrowed his eyebrows, "Yeah, why?"

Alicia shrugged nonchalantly, "Nothing. I'd like it if you'd get a little closer, that's all. For… the future."

America shrugged, "I guess. The Commie might be a problem, but Italy's a cool dude. Yeah, I'll get closer."

Alicia nodded happily and waved her hand. "Carry on."

America skipped out of the room, humming happily. He was free! America glanced down at his phone, checking the time and sending England a quick text letting him know the meeting was okay.

America frowned and leaned against the wall around the corner of Alicia's office. What should he do? England was having some meetings today, so he was out… America smiled suddenly and quickly dialed a number into his phone.

America waited for a moment before the person on the other end picked up. "Hiya, Italy!" America greeted, "What are ya' doin' today?"

… **France …**

France frowned at the documents his spies had gathered. France didn't like using spies, but America was causing France to worry. America's boss lady had some scary plans for the future, plans that involved other nations.

France sat back in his chair and let out a long sigh. He put his feet up on his desk and looked down at his phone, wanting to call England and ask him but…

France shook his head. England was too tightly entwined with America. If France did call England, he'd go running off to _Alfie_ and blabber away. France let out another sigh.

France finally came to a decision; he'd let America run with his plans, and if it got too far, France would call China and knock America down a peg. France, finally settling on a decision, thought it be a good idea to go out and find a pretty person to warm his bed with.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing! ... Yet!<strong>

**Ah, sorry for such a short chapter. *Cough* Blame my headaches and the fact the new season of Dexter is on tonight! *Wiggle* **

**My golly, what's this? Plot? Yes, yes, it is. ^3^ **

**So, I've recived a few reviews asking:**

**Q: Vhat is dis? Vhere is the angst you promised?**

**A: We're getting to that soon. ^^**

**Q: Vhere is dis conflict in the story?**

**A: _Still_ setting that up. It's coming soon, I promise! You saw the beginnings of it here with France. :D**

**Ahem, so anyways, I'm reading a new book called Pirate Lattitudes. There's a character that's named Lazue who's French, has a beard, shoulder length hair and is constantly surronded by women. Sound like someone we know? My mind was blown, too.**

**Can anyone guess which South Park character Guard C is based off of? :3 Anyone who can gets a treat! ^^**

**Thanks for the stalks/favorites! I love love love them! ^^**

**And big thanks to **Lady Skorpio**,** Moelolo**, **Invader Lye**, **Trumpet-Geek **and **GEMfaerie** for your reviews! You all get... Fruit Rollups! *Showers* I swear, next time will be cupcakes! My dog just ate them and... *Sniffle***

**Want cupcakes? Review~**


	14. Worldly Meetings and Feelings Pt 1

… **World Meeting, two weeks later (April 10****th****) …**

Antarctica was the first one to arrive. He looked around the empty room where the World Meeting was going to take place and took his customary seat a little bit past the center of the table. Antarctica tapped his fingers on the table, letting out little impatient sighs until the person he wanted to see came waltzing in.

Antarctica instantly jumped up and waved. Poland grinned and waved back, walking over with swaying hips. "Hiya, Anty!" Poland greeted happily.

Antarctica nodded his greeting and sat back down, wiggling impatiently. He and Poland were good drama friends, sharing anything they found out about other nations early before World Meetings. Poland sat down next to Antarctica and smiled.

"So, you are like, interested in what I know, right?" Poland asked slowly, making Antarctica suffer. Antarctica nodded, wiggling.

Poland pulled absently on his long sleeved shirt, smirking slyly at Antarctica. "I'll tell you, but you have to totally tell me what's goin' on between you and, like, Australia."

Antarctica blanched and looked away sharply, ignoring Poland's gaze. He blushed heavily when Poland laughed. "That, like, totally answers my question!" Poland coughed then continued slowly, "So, as you know, I'm uber good friends with Lithuania, and he's heard several juicy things to do with Russia and America."

Antarctica, embarrassment forgotten, turning his full attention on Poland and nodded admiringly.

"Well, apparently America has gotten, like, super close with Russia and Italy. I've even heard that, Alfred's totally spending more time with Russia and Italy then England. Which is totally _killing_ Arthur."

Antarctica made an excited noise at the back of his throat. He should stop spending so much time at home! Look how much Antarctica missed!

Poland nodded quickly, "Apparently, America is gonna' set up some like, mills or military bases in Russia or Italy. But that's, like, just speculation on Liet's part."

Antarctica rolled his eyes. No one cares about military bases, at least not _him_. Military activities had been outlawed years ago on Antarctica's shores, leaving Sam***** with little interest in warfare.

Poland waved his hand, "No it's totally important! This is pissing Germany off!" Antarctica looked up sharply. Germany and Italy, now those two had some serious tension.

Poland nodded excitedly, "Yeah! Germany refused more trades with America and he-" Poland broke off and waved at someone behind Antarctica's back.

Antarctica whipped around to see Australia coming towards them, taking the seat on Antarctica's other side. "G'day, mates!" Australia greeted cheerily, "What's with all the secretive whispa's?"

Poland glanced at Antarctica. "Can we talk with him around?" He gestured at Australia.

Antarctica rolled his eyes and nodded enthusiastically. Australia frowned. "I'm sittin' right her' ya' know. What are you talkin' about?"

Poland bit his lip. "Where was I… Oh, right! Germany, like, totally refused trades with America. I heard Germany even yelled at Italy!" Poland whispered excitedly.

Antarctica blinked and processed this, while Australia was looking confused. "Germany…? About America?"

Poland nodded. "Totally. Germany thinks, that like, America and Italy are too _buddy buddy_." Poland winked and giggled.

Australia frowned, considering this. Antarctica grinned and waited for more people to arrive. Other nations slowly trickled in, though no sign of America's clique. Poland suddenly remembered something and rugged on Antarctica's sleeve, frowning.

Antarctica, who was busy keeping a look out, looked, irritated, at Poland. Poland smirked. "I forgot to tell you who America joined up with!"

Antarctica forgot his irritation instantly, noticing that he did that a lot, and looked at Poland with interest. Poland looked around before whispering, "He tightened up his borders with Canada and he's inducting people into that new army of his from-"

"Chil~le!" A loud voice announced, and America's clique came into the meeting room, Mexico leading the band.

Antarctica tilted his head, curious. Mexico was a blacked haired, olive skinned loud mouth; he always wore a red bandana around his neck and a goofy grin on his face. Antarctica never really saw Mexico near the middle of the table, so the southern nation walking in with America was… Interesting, to say the least.

Poland nodded once, smirked then ran off to find Lithuania who had arrived with Russia. Antarctica watched America's clique, frowning slightly.

America's group now consisted of Russia, Lithuania, Latvia, both Northern and Southern Italy- so, also Spain- England, Mexico and… Antarctica squinted. Was that… Canada? Antarctica tilted his head. He hadn't seen Canada in… Well… A long time.

Antarctica watched the group sit down, and then looked for Germany. Antarctica hadn't see the stuffy nation today, and he knew the meeting wasn't going to start until Germany arrived.

Antarctica sighed and looked over at Australia, frowning when he saw Australia looking closely at America. Antarctica poked Australia, tilting his head.

Australia glanced at Antarctica. "I don't trust him." Was all he said, leaning back in his chair.

Antarctica looked over at America then back to Australia, thinking. Australia was on the same boat as Germany and China; against America. Antarctica clicked his tongue and rested his head on the table. _Pick your battles wisely, Australia…_ Antarctica thought wearily before returning his attention to the meeting.

… **America …**

America liked having friends and after years of just having two or three, having a whole clique is just… Well, awesome. America chatted happily with Spain while Romano and Italy argued over pasta, Russia emitted a creepy aura and Canada was talking tentatively with England. America liked his group of friends, perhaps maybe…

"Spain! Chilies are better than tomatoes!" Mexico chirped suddenly, butting into America's and Spain's conversation. Mexico was defiantly not high up on America's friends list.

Instantly, Spain whipped around to face Mexico. "Excuse me, _amigo_?" Spain asked tightly, eyes narrowing. "They are a bit better than hot spicy awkwardly shaped things."

Spain rolled his eyes, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. "Sure, _mi amigo_, but chilies are the fruit of passion!" Mexico laughed triumphantly.

America frowned and put in his own opinion. "I dunno' 'bout you guys, but I think they both really taste good in salsa…"

Mexico slammed his hand down on the table. "A Mexican creation, right Spainia? Haha! _América le gusta mi comida mejor_!"

Spain let out an angry hiss. "_No_! _No es cierto_!"

America turned his attention away from the bickering in Spanish to Italy and Romano, who sat a seat beyond England. Italy was looking nervously at the door and back at Romano. America frowned and was just about to ask Italy what was wrong, when the meeting room doors swung open to show China, Japan and… France?

Instantly, America looked away and at his hands. What was France doing with China? They didn't trade much, or even talk much, so why was France suddenly arriving with China?

America looked over at England at his side, meeting the island's nation's gaze. England glanced over at France and shrugged, putting America's mind slightly at rest. If England wasn't worried…

China sat down directly across from America, making America wince. China had been struggling with his economy, and he looked thin and pale from job loss. America knew Australia had been trying to help, but Australia could only take in so much trade. Japan had also lost weight and consequently jobs, but Australia had been a big crutch for Japan.

America made eye contact with Japan and smiled hesitantly, hoping for a sin of warmth in Kiku's eyes. Japan fidgeted and looked away quickly, face heating up. America felt his stomach sink. So Japan wasn't making eye contact… That didn't mean…

America flicked his gaze to France, hoping for a warmer response. Instead, France observed America cautiously, eyeing the super power up and down. America felt a twinge of amusement when England's hand slipped protectively into America's.

Italy's voice cut into America's thoughts. "Ve! Where is Germany? He's usually the first one here…"

America leaned forward to catch sight of Italy past England and Romano. "He can run late, can't he? He's not perfect…" America huffed angrily.

Italy sank down into his chair. "W-well… He…"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Oh, Feli. Potato Bastard doesn't even talk to you! Why do you care when he arrives?"

America narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, Italy. Why do you care?" America didn't like how Germany had just refused America's trade offer. If Germany was going to cut America off of potatoes, America would cut Germany off of Italy.

Italy looked away, sniffling. "I-I…"

America felt his resolution crack. So much for no Germany and Italy; America sighed. "You can go look for him, Italy… If you want…"

Italy instantly brightened. "Oh! Really! Thank you America!" Italy hopped up and headed toward the door, practically skipping.

America smiled fondly after Italy. America didn't notice when England's hand dropped out of his.

… **Germany …**

Germany hurried down the corridors of the meeting building, trying to find the right number of the door the World Meeting was in. He was half an hour late, and now Germany couldn't find the right room. He breathed a curse and stopped at an intersection of hallways, trying to remember the right room.

"Germany?" A voiced suddenly asked from behind Germany.

Germany whipped around, blinking when he saw Italy standing there. Italy smiled broadly and waved. "I've been looking for you! Everyone keeps talking at the meeting and…" Italy's sentence faded off and he looked at his feet.

"Hallo, Italy." Germany said dumbly, filling the awkward silence.

Italy nodded, still looking at his feet. "Why did you turn down America's offer? He just wanted more wrust, and now he doesn't like me talking to you." Italy mumbled.

Germany stiffened. Since when did America stop Italy from talking to Germany? Germany huffed. "Does it matter why I rejected the trade offer?" He said it rougher than he intended, and Italy jumped.

"Sorry Germany. The meeting's that way…" Italy pointed down a hallway Germany swore he had checked.

Germany headed down the hallway, but he turned back to Italy. "Are… Are you coming?"

Italy shook his head, not meeting Germany's eyes. "No. I have to go to the bathroom." But he didn't move from the spot he was standing in.

Germany let out a soft sigh. "Don't let America push you around, okay, Feli?" Germany could have sworn he saw Italy perk at the nickname.

"Ve okay, Germany!" Italy said brightly, finally meeting Germany's eyes. "Have fun at the meeting, _si_?" He skipped off down the hallway, humming.

Germany watched Italy disappear down a corner of a hallway before continuing his journey to the World Meeting. Germany thought back to when Italy had mentioned America not wanting Italy to speak to Germany and tightened his jaw. It wasn't America place to tell Italy what he could and couldn't do.

Germany walked angrily into the meeting room and slammed his fist down on the table. "Shut up! We need to make up for lost time!" He yelled over the clamor.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing!<strong>

*** Antarctica's name is Samuel, or Sam. I just got tired of using Antarctica over and over again... So Ja. ^^**

**Okay, second I'd like to say character design for Mexico- a.k.a bandana and what-have-you- is to be given credit to Nadiezda on DeviantArt. ^^ I found their picture and fell in love so...**

**Anyways, new update. I won't be updating on Mondays. I have to do the week's homework and flashcards, so no typing for me. ^^**

**So, apparently the book character mentioned in the last chapter is a girl... Don't ask me how, I guess I just read fast. She just... dresses like a guy. 0-o**

**Thanks for the favorites and stalks! :D Keep 'em comin'!**

**Thanks **XDXDXDXDXDXDXD**, **Lady Skorpio**, **Trumpet-Geek**, **Mothy.D**, **GEMfaerie**,** Dionnysia**, **The Animanga Girl**,** Moelolo**, **Invader Lye **and **Too cool for school **for your amazing reviews! Look how many people! ^^ I'm giving you... Uh... Um... Waffles! Frozen Waffles! *Showers***

**Also thanks to the reviewer** Underground Maniac **for guessing the correct South Park character Guard C is based off of! ^^ Tweek Tweak was the inspiration for Guard C! For your amazing guessing skills, you get... *Dun* ... Chocolate! ^^**

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**Let's see how many reviews we can get this chapter, ja?**


	15. Worldly Meetings and Feelings Pt 2

The World Meeting room slowly fell quiet, with the exception of Mexico and Spain still heatedly discussing if chilies or tomatoes were better. America shot Mexico a glare, making the southern nation quiet down enough for Germany to continue.

"Right, so any announcements?" Germany asked, looking around the meeting room and taking a seat.

America raised his hand, grinning. "I have something." He hopped up cheerily, looking around the large table. "So, Mexico and Canada have agreed to trade with me. If you want to also join along in my trade group, you can talk to me after the meeting." America chirped and sat down.

France raised his hand and stood. "America," He began, "You 'ave closed off almost all of your trades with China and Japan, but you still go around requesting others to trade with you? I 'ardly think that is fair."

America stiffened and looked down at his hands for a moment, thinking of a response. Finally, America stood back up. "France, I was relying heavily on China for trades. I'm now just trying to expand my trading options. I'll see what I can do for China-"

China hopped out of his chair, glaring at America, "I'm sitting right here, aru! Stop talking about me like I'm not in the room!" He crossed his arms, "Plus, aru, I don't need America's trades. Australia's helping me out."

America's eyes widened. "B-But… China, I can try to help you out I just-"

China sat back down and sank down in his chair. "I don't want to talk about it, aru…" China muttered.

America felt guilt crash over him like a wave. If Alicia would just listen to America, this wouldn't be happening! But every time America broached the question to Alicia, she would cut him off and not hear any of his suggestions. America slowly sat back down, rubbing his eyes.

America's neck prickled and he looked up to see Japan, France and Australia all staring at America. America let out slight whimper and sank further into his chair. _Please stop staring… _America thought desperately.

Just then, Italy burst into the room. He looked around hastily and frowned slightly. "Why does everyone look so sad, ve…?" He asked, walking over to his chair and sitting down.

Germany shook his head. "It's nothing, Feli." He said quickly, tapping his fingers on the table. "I have a question." Germany said suddenly, glancing around the table.

America perked slightly, curious. Germany was always so stoic and he always seemed to have the answer to the questions, so Germany asking a question was something to be interested in.

Germany rubbed the back of his neck and coughed awkwardly. "It's been reported that there have been… Spies lurking around Germany. I want to know if…" America tried to ignore the fact Germany looked at him, "Anyone has been sending spies into my country."

America frowned slightly. Who would want to spy on Germany? America knew for a fact that other then the trade offer, America hadn't paid any attention to Germany. And, besides, why would a country admit to spying on Germany.

Germany glanced around the table, hoping halfheartedly for a reply. He let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay. If no one wants to admit…" He glanced up at America again.

Russia tilted his head to one side, smiling slightly. "Why do you keep looking at comrade America? Surely, you do not suspect him of anything, da?"

America flinched. As much as he loved having Russia around, sometimes the imposing nation got on America's nerves; more specifically, when Russia asked awkward questions.

Germany blushed and frowned. "I didn't mean-"

Russia laughed lightly. "Sure, Germany." He stood, looking around the room slowly. America shivered; Russia was a creepy guy. "I thought others should know America and I have found more oil in some of my mountains. I am open for trading."

America smiled slightly. He had completely forgotten that he and Russia had found a massive oil supply, causing America's gas prices to drop radically. Russia was imposing, but Alfred loved his oil.

Russia sat down and Iraq stood up, preparing to speak. America lost interest in the meeting after this point, and let his eyes wander around the table. Australia was writing something down on a piece of paper and showing to Antarctica. Austria was talking in quiet whispers to Hungary. Italy was mouthing something to Germany- wait, what?

America frowned and tried to read Italy's lips, but failed. America shifted his eyes over to Germany, but he only responded with a nod to Italy. America felt slightly irritated, but dismissed it. Italy could mouth things over to Germany. Why not?

America watched Italy for awhile. He then switched his gaze to Mexico and Canada. He had to ask the two of them something… America shook his head and pushed those thoughts away. He wouldn't ask them till after the meeting.

America shifted his thoughts and eyes over to China and Japan. They both looked so sick… America wished he could help, but Alicia wouldn't allow a single inch of wiggle room for America to work with either of them.

America leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. America liked it better when he could look over at China and Japan and they'd smile back. When France would lick his lips creepily, and not look so serious. As much as Alicia had helped America, he almost wished for the times before she came.

America's eyes flicked over to England. He hadn't been spending much time with the island nation these days… America would have to go over to England's house tomorrow and just laze around, whining like the old days. America smiled. Make up a new nick name maybe, and raid England's pantry for Pringles.

England looked over at America and smiled faintly. America grinned goofily back before tuning back into the World Meeting. Apparently, Italy was just finishing a long speech.

"-With the tomatoes!" Italy chirped, "Good idea, right?"

Romano snorted. "That's a horrible idea! Wouldn't the tomatoes explode?"

Spain paled. "No! Lovi, don't talk about exploding tomatoes! What if _you_ explode!" Spain hugged Romano, letting out a concerned whimper.

Romano blushed a dark red and tried to pry Spain off. "Bastard! Why would I explode? Get off!"

The meeting slowly descended back into the loud clamor, a few nations already standing and heading toward the door. Apparently, Italy's idea had been silly enough to end the meeting and start up the loud talking again. America stood and stretched his back popping. "Hey, Mexico, could I talk to ya' for a minute?" America asked.

Mexico hopped up and nodded. "Sure, America!"

America lead Mexico towards a corner of the room before turning and facing Mexico. Alicia's idea was… risky. But America figured if he succeeded with Mexico, other nations would agree to the idea.

"I have a proposition for you, Mexico…" America began.

… **Italy …**

Italy watched as Spain and Romano had a hugging battle, laughing a little. Romano pretended to hate it when Spain hugged him, even though Italy knew Romano loved Spain's hugs.

Italy's spectacle was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. Italy turned around in his chair and smiled broadly at Germany. "Ludwig!" Italy greeted, hopping up and out of his chair. Italy had mouthed early that he wanted to meet with Germany. "Come with me." Italy skipped out the door, humming.

Germany followed behind Italy, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Italy led him into another meeting room, this one smaller then the room the World Meeting was held in. Italy hopped up onto the table, legs dangling off.

"Ve, Germany what's happening with the spies?" Italy asked, frowning.

Germany stood stiffly in front of Italy, shifting from foot to foot. "I… There have been information leaks. The only explanation is a spy, but I can't figure out who would want to find out anything about me…"

Italy tilted his head. "So… You don't suspect America? Because Russia…"

Germany gritted his teeth. "Why do you care if I suspect America? And don't listen to Russia." He snapped.

Italy frowned and hugged his knees. "America is my friend. And so are you, Ludwig!" Italy hugged his knees tighter, "But I don't want anyone to be angry anymore! America is stressed and Japan looks so skinny and Big Brother France keeps staring at America like he's planning something and I don't want any war and I don't want you… I.. Just want everyone to be happy and… My name is Italy…" Italy's long breathed sentence ended in a whimper.

Germany blinked, having trouble keeping up with Italy's rapid speech. "Feliciano, there won't be a war. Everyone is just stressed." His shoulders sagged, "I'm stressed." He said softly.

Italy released his knees and hopped up, smiling. "Big Brother France says stressed people get massages." He wiggled his fingers.

Germany blinked, amused. "Really? Of course, France would be the one to suggest something that allows such a perfect opportunity for groping…"

Italy laughed and stepped toward Germany. Talking with Germany like this always put Italy at ease. "Yeah, France even taught me how to give massages."

Germany smiled, "He would." He took a step closer to Italy.

Italy grinned back at Germany, then his face became more sober. "Germany…" Italy began hesitantly, "I… I have…" Italy suddenly caught sight of a clock on the wall behind Germany. "I have to leave!" Italy yelped

Germany gave Italy a confused look, before twisting around and catching sight of the clock.

"Romano will leave without me again!" Italy rushed by Germany towards the door. "We have to talk again soon, Ludwig!" Italy shouted over his shoulder, smiling.

Germany watched Italy go, feeling his stomach flutter at his last words. "Uh- Ja!" Germany called after him, blushing.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing!<strong>

**So... tired... This chapter wouldn't write. Major... Writers block... *Sigh***

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	16. The Proposition

Mexico shifted, feeling slightly unnerved by America's seriousness. "Oh- yeah? What is this proposition?" He asked slowly.

"Well, as you know, I have a new military division." America said, shifting.

Mexico nodded, "Oh! Yes, the VH. There quite the force to reckon-" Mexico stopped when irritation passed over America's face. Best not to upset the super power…

"And, as you know, your cities aren't the- the-" A moment of confusion passed over America's face, "The crime-free-est, around."

Mexico felt a spark of indignation. Sure, he had drug lords but- oh and kidnappers- but America was the one on the top of the list for crime. Or… He was before the VH came. Mexico had to admit, America' new military force was impressive.

America smiled warmly, "So, why don't I send a couple of VH troops down your way. You must have seen how well they worked for me, and I'm sure we could help out with a few of your crime problems to, yeah? We could just do a few bases, where there is a lot of crime or…

Mexico blinked, confused and a little shocked. America was asking to set up military forces in Mexico, something America hasn't done since the Iraq War. Not that America was going to war with Mexico… Right? If America did, Mexico didn't stand a chance.

Mexico smiled uneasily, "What would happen if I said no? I love the idea of having help control the crime rate, but…

America shrugged absently. "Why would you say no then? It's for the good of all of us. Your drug lords go down, my drug rate goes down. Plus, more trades for you. I'd make sure of it…" America glanced over to Canada, "And in exchange maybe you could mention the deal to… a few nations, yeah?"

Mexico perked at this. He liked trades. And mentioning America's deal to Canda wouldn't be that hard. Mexico could probably even talk to Italy, if he tried hard enough. Overall, helping out Mexico's crime rate and America's trades seemed like a pretty sweet deal…

Mexico glanced around the room and frowned when he saw France watching the two of them. Mexico bit his lip. He'd make for more friends than enemies out of America's deal, but France…

Finally, Mexico smiled. "Sure, America. I'll let you set up some bases!" Mexico figured the pros outweighed the cons.

America let out a relived sigh smiling warmly at Mexico. "Really?" He asked, thrilled. "Great! I'll have Alicia call you and you'll arrange the details right?"

Mexico threw an arm around America, chuckling. "Sure, sure, Alfred! I guess this means we're _amigos_ now, _si_?"

America blinked, glancing at Mexico's arm, frowning slightly. Mexico's mind raced before he quickly added, "I'll pass around the word how great your VH bases are. To Canada."

America instantly smiled back, "And Italy. We're great pals now, Mexico. Damn right."

Mexico nodded eagerly. "Of course!" Mexico figured he was safe. Mexico was allied with America, and Mexico's economy would soon get a boost.

America shrugged off Mexico's arm and headed toward the hallway, pulling out his phone. "I'll be right back. Phone call."

Mexico smiled understandably. "Of course, America!"

Mexico waited until America was in the hall before he skipped over to Canada. "Mattie!" Mexico sang, "You'll never believe what America just asked me!"

… **Chez …**

Chez was sketching absently in his room, humming a song. There wasn't much more he could do these days for leisure. The weather was already approaching the seventies, and Chez was locked inside his sixty degree room. Chez sighed miserably and gazed outside his window. It looked so damn pretty outside, but he couldn't bring himself to open the window…

A loud meowing distracted Chez from his day dreaming, and he looked down to the foot of his bed. A fat cat sat on his toes, staring intently at Chez.

Chez huffed, "Do you want more food, Cartman?"

Cartman- the cat- meowed. Chez found Cartman outside his window a week ago and Chez, being the cat lover he was, had taken in the stray. Chez was now regretting that decision; Cartman kept shedding and Chez didn't have enough money to feed the damn cat.

Chez stood and headed toward the small kitchen when a frantic knock interrupted the feeding ritual. Chez opened the door, and smiled warmly at Alicia.

"Hiya, Lish!" He sang.

Alicia practically hissed. "Damn French and their stupid smoking! The British are right!" She pushed by Chez and into his freezing room, continuing her rant. "America went to The World Meeting and now both China, Australia and _France_ are giving us the- why the hell is there a cat on your bed!" Alicia screeched.

Chez winced. Alicia despised cats. Cartman growled and jumped off the bed. He walked quite primly into the kitchen, leaving Alicia staring daggers after him. Chez gently lead Alicia to his bed, speaking soothingly.

"Ignore Cartm- the cat. What's this about France and Australia?" He asked softly.

Alicia clenched her fists and took a deep breath. Chez observed her, frowning. Alicia looked ready to strangle someone. After a few minutes, Alicia unclenched her hands and spoke slowly.

"France and Australia support China and Japan. Essentially, they're against us."

Chez clicked his tongue. That wasn't good. "Any good news?"

Alicia let out a giggle, rubbing her forehead. "Well, seems that Mexico allowed us a few VH bases. Which is just peachy if there's a war!" Alicia's voice began to rise, "We can throw their chilies at the French army! We can-"

Chez rested a heavy hand on Alicia's shoulder. "Calm down." He said, "You need to calm down."

Alicia shuddered and hugged her knees to her chest.

Chez continued, "If we proceeded carefully, we could probably get bases in Canada and Italy. We practically have some in Russia already, with the oil rigs. A few soldiers and we have Russia. Italy would mainly just be more mills for food and a base for soldiers."

Alicia released her knees and sat up a little straighter. "You're right." She nodded, convincing herself, "You're right. France wouldn't do anything. And Australia never fights. Especially the more military control we have…"

Chez nodded and rubbed Alicia's back soothingly. "You shouldn't get so worked up. People will talk, and you'll end up having a heart attack."

Alicia shrugged, returning to her calm self. "I know."

Chez smiled and grabbed his sketch pad, beginning to draw. "So, what exactly to Mexico agree to?"

Alicia laid on her back on the bed, letting out a content sight. "Bases to control drug crimes. Currently only in major cities, but what more do you really need? We'd need someone to make sure order is kept up though…"

Chez nodded, flipping to a new page in his sketch book. "What about Commander Bob? He's-"

"Chez, you need to go." Alicia cut him off.

Chez stiffened. "I'm not going down to that hell hole of heat. I'm not going." He shivered, putting down his sketch pad.

Alicia sighed. "You'll have to go somewhere hot eventually. Call Commander Bob and tell him he's going to Mexico."

Chez nodded obediently. "'Course."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing!<strong>

**First off, OH GOLLY I'M SORRY! I haven't updated in so long... *Sob* I've had horrible headaches, you see. But, on the bright side, I've been mapping the story onwards. :D And... I might have a new story in mind... *Gasp***

**Sorry this chapter is so short... *Sob* It was a bit of a filler to get to NEXT chapter... **

**Anyways, thanks to the new favorites and stalks! ^^**

**And thank you **The Animanga Girl**, **Lady Skorpio**, **GEMfaerie**, **Moelolo**, **Germerica**,** Invader Lye** and **Queen Glory** for your awesome reviews! You get chocolate covered pretzles for your awesomesauce! XD**

**I'm going to update this tomorrow... And Possibly start a new stroy. ^^**

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	17. France's Troubles Begin

… **France (April 13****th****) …**

France gazed worriedly down at the papers on his desk, biting his lip. He glanced back up at the spy, then back down at the papers. The spy was the best in the business, or so France had been told. The spy sure had been a pain to tract down. France finally succeeded getting the spy's services through some high and mighty British person.

The spy had been deployed right after The World Meeting had ended, right under Alicia's nose the spy had gathered some very important information.

"And, you are sure these are correct…" France asked hesitantly.

The spy let out a snort around his cigarette. "Oui, what do you think I am? Some half ass beech? Non, I am the best and d'ese reports are correct."

France sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, gazing over the papers once again. The papers detailed America's military plans, showing his current bases in Mexico and proposed ones in Canada. France flipped over a piece of paper and read the back, eye flicking back up to the spy.

"So, you are sure that Italy hasn't agreed to any bases, as of yet?" France asked, gesturing down at the paper. "It says here but…"

The spy rolled his eyes and flicked his cigarette to the floor, almost immediately lighting a new one. "Well, the Northern half has agreed. But the fouled mouthed beech of the south disagrees. And do not doubt the paper."

France nodded. "Very well_, je vous remercie_-" He began to dismiss the spy.

The spy hissed and took a step closer to France's desk. "Vhere is my payment? I risked my _cul_ getting this-"

France waved his hand distractedly. "I gave the payment through the person I contacted you through. He said he'd make sure he would give it to you… His name- Oh! Gregory, was it? He said-"

The spy crossed his arms, huffing. "_C'est Grégoire salope_…" France raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Very well. You know w'ere to contact me if you need more of my services."

France laughed, smirking slyly at the spy. "Oh, _Chris_, I might very well need your services…" He purred, licking his lips.

The spy turned abruptly toward the door and held up his left hand, a wedding band glinting. "Married, beech!" He called out over his shoulder and walked out the door.

France tapped his fingers absently on his desk, looking wearily at the papers scattered across it. Most of the paper was dedicated to Mexico's and Canada's position in the VH business. But on the back of the last piece of paper, it gave a list of nations America was going to try and reach out to with his military.

France murmured the names under his breath, wincing at each one.

"Italy…" Well, that one was obvious. France was just relived Italy hadn't completely joined with America yet. And if America wanted to further extend his power, he could just ask Spain after that; especially if Romano agreed.

"Russia isn't on here." France groaned, rubbing his forehead. So, creepy Russia joined up with America. Figures, considering the nukes the combined two must have.

"England." France tilted his head in slight confusion. Apparently England hadn't allowed VH bases either. France couldn't help but feel it had something to do with Italy.

"Germany." France was sure that Germany had disagreed to more trades with America, let alone military control. France shook his head.

"Australia and…" France felt his heart speed up. "And… France?" He put the paper down and started at it, trying to decipher the meaning of the names on the back. America wanted military control over…

"Two of 'is three enemies…" France finished the thought out loud, sinking back into his chair.

_America must want China on his own, so he'll take down China's two biggest supporters… _France thought slowly.

France picked up his desk phone, trying to calculate the time in Australia, but giving up and dialing the number anyways.

… **Australia …**

Australia, like a normal person, was sleeping. It was four in the morning and Australia should be sleeping rightfully so, and not be prodded in the side like he was currently experiencing.

"Oi." A weak voice hissed.

Australia cracked one eye open and blinked, seeing a sleepy Antarctica leaning over him. Antarctica held out Australia's phone, eventually dropping it on Australia's head when he refused to take it.

Australia sat up in bed, stifling a yawn and glancing down at the caller I.D. of the phone. Antarctica settled into bed next to Australia, eager to listen in on the phone conversation.

Australia sighed and held the phone next to his ear. "'Ello?" He asked groggily.

"_Hello, Australia it's France… _baiser _what time iz it there?_" France asked quickly.

Australia processed France's words slowly before replying. "Oh, it's only four in the mornin'. What's got your kola up a tree?"

"_Well, America is up to something._" France began, "_And it involves you and me._"

Australia raised any eyebrow. "Oh?" Antarctica leaned over Australia, trying to hear the phone conversation better. Australia tried not to yelp when Antarctica elbowed him in the gut. "What's that?"

"_Well, it seems America want to set up military bases in our land._" France said angrily.

Antarctica pressed against Australia, head resting in his shoulder to hear France better. None of Antarctica practically laying on Australia helped the current predicament. "He does? How do ya' know this? Is it just speculation or-"

"_I sent one of the best spies in my country._" France said bluntly.

Australia sobered up. "Oh. Continue."

… **America …**

America rang England's door bell five times, waiting impatiently for the island nation to answer his door. America hadn't spent more than a few minutes alone with England in ages, and America was dying to snuggle on the couch and watch a scary movie.

England opened the door and smiled briefly at America. "Americ-"

"Iggy!" America chirped and glomped England, laughing. "God it feels like forever since I talked to you alone!"

England's face heated up instantly, but he accepted America's hug. "Well- y-yes you bloody git, that's because you're always off with Italy…" England huffed moodily.

America pouted and released England from his hug, gazing pleadingly. "Sorry, Iggy…"

England fidgeted before turning sharply, allowing America to slide by him into his house. "Whatever you say, Alfred, just stop looking at me like that…" England snapped.

America pranced happily by England and into the living room. "I picked out a scary movie we can watch!" America called, "This one's called _Poltergeist_! It's supposed to be a classic! I got all three!"

England sighed and shut the door, following America. "Please don't make me watch all three…" He groaned.

… **A wee bit later …**

America tugged England up the stairs, laughing giddily. "Come _on_ Artie!" America whined.

England went as fast as he could up the stairs, trying not to trip. They made it to the landing before England pushed America up against the wall and… well, began to snog him. America made a pleased sound at the back of his throat, clearly enjoying this.

England was hoping half heartedly they'd be able to make it to the bedroom when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. England broke away from America, hissing slightly.

"You have got to be kidding me…" England snapped, flipping open his phone and holding it to his ear. "What?" America began to kiss England's jaw.

"_Arthur! I have got to talk to you about America!_" France said urgently.

"I'm a little busy at the moment, Frog." England growled, turning slightly away from America and toward the bedroom.

"_Non! I don't care if America is doing a strip tease, I have to discuss something with you!_" France growled back.

America slipped into England's bedroom, smirking deviously. "Oh _Artie_~"

England twitched slightly. "Better make it quick."

"_America plans to expand his military control over me!_" France said urgently.

England's mind however, was already with America in the bedroom. "Well, then…" England said absently, "That's… uh… bad. Talk to you in the morning, chap!"

"_Je jure de putain de Dieu, j'espère en Amérique vous donne un-_" England hung up his phone and followed America into the bedroom.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing as of yet!<strong>

**Ugh... I hate homework. I couldn't start my new story and I barely am able to update this. Curse you, school! I don't need homework! I'm awesome like that!**

**Anyways, short chapter because of said homework. *Sorry* But hey, at least I updated... right?**

**Thank you for the new stalks/favorites! They. Make. Me. Feel. FUZZY.**

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**Now, off to bed! *Phew***


	18. A Meeting and Beginning of a Car Ride

… **America (April 16****th****) …**

America popped his lips, looking absently around. After spending a few days with England, Alicia had ordered America to go meet with Israel, Russia and Italy. Currently, America was waiting for Israel to finish with a meeting and meet with America. After meeting with Israel, America was to fly out and see Italy and then Russia, and then finally go home on the twentieth.

America leaned against the wall and sighed. He was waiting in a hall way outside some meeting room, wondering if everybody who planned meetings with America purposely made him wait. America's eyes widened. What if they all collaborated to make sure there were no comfortable chairs for Alfred to sit on while he waited!

America shook his head, stopping the flow of paranoid thoughts. He really couldn't wait to go home and get back to his time zone, and not to mention pig out on _good_ ice-cream, and no more of this crappy gelta-

The doors to the meeting room America was waiting outside swung open, letting out several official looking people. America picked out Israel and trotted over, smiling.

"Hiya, Israel!" America greeted happily.

Israel smiled and tilted his head, reminding America of a puppy. "_Shalom_, America. I hope you have been well."

America shrugged. "Same ol' same ol'. France is riding my back over Mexico, and China and Japan…" America trailed off, looking at his feet.

Israel made a sympathetic noise at the back of his throat. "Sorry…" He said absently, before turning toward the meeting room. "But, let us talk of happier things, no?" He led America into the room, sitting down so he faced the window.

America sat across from Israel, placing a few sheets of paper on the desk before him. America swiveled around his chair to see out the window, smiling.

"What city is this again, Israel? Somethin' with an H…" America said.

Israel beamed proudly. "_Haifa_, my major port. Jerusalem has some pretty sights, but cannot compare to her." Israel stared out the window for a few more minutes before switching his attention to America. "Now, why did you call this meeting?"

America smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Well, as you know I've been reaching out my… connections to different nations. Trade routes, military bases and all that jazz… I was just wondering if you'd like to be on my side."

Israel blinked and tilted his head, thinking over America's words. "What is you and Alicia's total goal, America?" He frowned at his words and rephrased, "What are… you accomplishing by uniting?"

America furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, really I just want everyone to be peaceful."

Israel raised an eyebrow. "And you accomplish this by maybe…" He frowned at his words, "No, possibly starting a war with France and China?"

America stiffened and sat straighter in his chair. "France and China can see what I'm doin' and take it any way they like. They can see it as peaceful uniting or a takeover, but as far as I'm concerned there is no war."

Israel blinked his dark eyes and clicked his tongue. "So why do you want my crossing… Ah, joining over to your side?"

America let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair once again. ""Dunno, boss lady said you'd be good to have. Plus, we could help each other out in a pinch, yeah? The more friends the better."

Israel smirked and nodded. "What's this with Italy? I heard he's your _calev_…" Israel clicked his tongue, "Dog, I mean. He follows you around now, no?"

America chuckled and shrugged. "He's a funny little dude to have around. Ya' might like him…" America picked up one of the pieces of paper he had on the desk and looked up at Israel. "If you do decide to join, I would love some of your air force maneuvers."

Israel glanced at the paper then up at America. "You do, or does Alicia?" America began to protest, but Israel continued quickly, "But- hey, we are _haverim _now, no? I'll let you have some new ideas my soldiers have been working on."

America brightened. "Really, Israel? Awesome!" He fist pumped. "How's the neighbors been treating you?"

Israel ran America's words over in his heads before slowly replying, "You mean Egypt-" His face darkened. "We have… been better."

America held Israel a thumbs up. "Don't worry. I'll talk to them for you!"

… **(April 17****th****) …**

America had landed at an Italian airport, managed to get his luggage and get outside without a single calamity. But now America was waiting for Italy to pick him up, which was proving to be a long wait.

America looked around the empty pick up and drop of zone of the airport and unlocked his Iphone again, sending Italy a text.

_Hey! Ita where r u? D: (7:52 pm)_

America waited impatiently for Italy to respond. Italy had trouble texting in general, and America knew he was being stupid when asking for the nation to drive, not crash and text at the same time. America was pleasantly surprised when he received a coherent text back.

_Ve! We shpuld be there soom! Drip off zone A? (7:56 pm)_

America quickly texted back.

_Yeah! I'm, like, the only 1 here! (7:57 pm)_

America felt a flutter of happiness when Italy's car came around the bend in the road and pulled to a smooth stop in front of America. The passenger window rolled down and Italy practically jumped out the window as he waved to America.

"Hi! Alfred, ve! I'm sososo sorry we're late but I got hungry so we stopped for gelato and then I got hungry _again_ so we stopped for pizza and then we found this kitten and I picked it up but Germany-"

America cut Italy off, frowning. "Germany?" Italy hadn't mentioned Germany in their last phone conversation…

Italy blinked then grinned. "Oh yeah! I told Ludwig you were coming and he flied out here to visit with us! Isn't that right, Germany!" Italy leaned back in the seat, revealing Germany in the driver's seat.

Germany met America's gaze and nodded. "Ja. Why I came."

America bristled slightly. "Oh he flew out to visit, did he? Well, Italy we'll be sure to show him the scary movie we picked out, right?"

Italy laughed and clapped his hands. "Oh yay! You picked out the one with the corn children, right Alfred? You said that there's a monster in the corn and then the girl gets eaten and then the guy gets a gun and shoots kids- which, ve! is horrible-"

Germany rested a firm hand on Italy's shoulder. "Quiet. We'll hear more about it late, Feli." Germany looked at America. "You'll be riding in the back."

America grumbled and shoved his stuff into the back of Italy's small car. Figures, especially after America had called shot gun, Germany would fly to Italy and hog up an entire seat….

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing!<strong>

**Oh golly! Another short chapter. B-but I uploaded my new story! It's called Every Day at Five, if you wanna', I dunno, check it out 'er something. XD**

**I'm thinking I'll switch off updating the two stories every other day, as to not have another gimpy chapter like this. So, you want me to update the new story tomorrow or this one? ^^'**

**Haha Israel! I'm jewish, you see, and couldn't help putting him in. I had some real reason for him to be in the story, but I've long ago forgotten. :B**

**I've been checking the traffic stats for My War and I saw just how many of you favorited and stalk this story! It made me so happy! *Happy sob* So for the first time ever, all my stalkers get... Dun... chewing gum! ^3^**

**Thank you to my reviewers **Invader Lye**,** The Animanga Girl**,** Moelolo**,** Mothy.D**,** an1me05 **and **Lady Skorpio** for your freakin' yummy reviews! So you all get... Dun... Drumsticks (The ice cream) :D**

**Want treats? Review~**

**P.s. I forgot to mention this, but if you read last few chapters, you'll notice Chris, Gregory and Cartman, which are all based off of South Park characters~ ^^ So... yeah~**


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